Afterglow
by jacklynnight
Summary: A tale of the adopted daughter of Rose and Emmett-From growing up the only human in a house of vampires to falling for one her parents couldn't hate more;a story of the frailty of life, rebellion of a teenage heart, and the complications of forbidden love
1. Preface

original summary-_When my mother found me, fate seemed to link us together. Not only was I the daughter she never dreamed she'd have, I was unusually unappetizing for a human. However, being raised by vampires does not come without conflict. This is my tale about growing up Cullen and finding love in the most unexpected place._

_The world's largest coven is about to get a whole lot larger!_

*******ATTENTION MUST READ!*********

**This story is about an original character, but the Cullens are all very present in this story. So never fear.**

**The first 7 chapters consist of Emmalie's childhood.**

**The next 7-8 chapters consist of her young adult years.**

**The next 7 her experiences with love and heartache. **

**There may be more but this is how it looks right now...**

**Warnings:**

***Story deals with death and other heavy issues (no I do not kill my main character, but be prepared for the issue to come up)**

***illness**

***A love triangle (every twi-fic should have one)**

***Suicide (again trust me on this) **

***There will be sex- this was originally a coming of age story so yep I am going to go there**

***And lastly the age difference thing (again trust me it is not going to be distasteful) **

_**So this is the preface for Afterglow. Those of you who have been following elsewhere will have yet to read it. The chapters will follow shortly. **_

_**hugs, AJ or Jackie as some of you have come to call me.**_

_** ALSO PLEASE REVIEW- ask a question or give a one word response; I can't stand that feeling that I'm writing for no one when I happen to know there are over 900 people who have this on their alert list. **_

_**Hugs again..lol **_

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Preface:

Delicately, I disentangled myself from cotton sheets that had softly shackled me to him throughout the night. It was how I rose every morn so it had become my most charming ritual,

twisting free from our bonds formed from love without inconveniencing him or rustling him from his peaceful state. Gracefully I swung my legs over the side of our lumpy bed, curled my toes

in a stretch before letting my bare feet to the ground. Not bothering with dressing, I slipped to my desk in the corner.

He remained motionless; letting me pretend to sneak about, but even with my back turned to him I could feel the love in his stare boring its way straight through my unclothed being. It

was that feeling that centered me; my own personal gravity.

The smile that graced my lips spoke only to him, and the glance over my shoulder confirmed that he indeed recognized it was him who made me smile.

"Why are you out of bed?" He demanded in his spoiled way, his smile warm and loving. I tactfully opened my Macbook and ignored him.

"You're going to write?" He questioned annoyed at the very idea that he was suggesting.

"Yes," I admitted bashfully, ignoring his pampered self-interest.

"Emma!" He pouted, sounding very much like an overgrown six year old.

"I cannot help it," I said opening a blank document. "When you love me like that my mind dances with ideas. Perhaps if you were less inspiring, we could spend more time in bed," I

suggested with a small wink and a coltish flip of my bed hair. In defeat, he returned his head to his pillow and I let my eyes drink him in.

It was nights like the last that burned into my memory. Every time was as different as the sunset, each beautiful in their own way. I could live my entire life in the wake of such moments,

or so I thought at one time. I had thought that I could love him once and that after I would find I had my fill. But it was a silly notion, a notion as silly as only viewing a single sunset before

choosing blindness. And remembering him was not enough. No one remembers the sunset on a certain day; they can't tell you the fade or vibrancy of the hues. It was not enough for me

to remember the time in which he loved me, I needed his love, to feel it at all times.

After the sun truly sets, all that is left is for it to fade to night. Sometimes the colors linger, hanging about in a magical way as if refusing to diminish. It is a denial of sorts. I know now that

I could not live in the afterglow of his love, not now not ever. In truth I would much rather die than live a lifetime simply remembering him...


	2. Becoming Cullen

Summary:

**The in canon tale of the daughter Rose never thought she could have.**

_When my mother found me, fate seemed to link us together. Not only was I the daughter she never dreamed she'd have, I was unusually unappetizing for a human. However, being raised by vampires does not come without conflict. This is my tale about growing up Cullen and finding love in the most unexpected place. _

_The world's largest coven is about to get a whole lot larger!_

**Post-Breaking Dawn**

**Sorrowfully, I do not own the Twilight saga or any of its characters. They belong to the glorious Stephenie Meyer. But Emmalie is MINE, as is the plot. :)**

**Author's Notes:**

**This is my first fanfic, my first born so to say. :)**

**The POV takes some getting used to. It is strange at first, but by the third chapter you will be well oriented to Emm's perception.**

**Hopefully you will enjoy.**

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It was a cold overcast day, the day my mother found me. It was two weeks after another joyless Christmas and the January air bit bone-deep at the usual low of -4 degrees Celsius. The

ground was still unthawed and frozen against my bare feet, but at least most of the snow had been shoveled off the cobblestone walks. The bleak day suited my lifeless future. Young as I

was, I remember it all vividly. They were honeymooning in Prague, since they had honeymooned in most every destination location the Travel Agency offered.

It was a lover's stroll at sunset; her slender hand was laced in his large calloused one. They were walking, enthralled in one another, when my mother heard my four-year-old whimpers.

Twelve blocks away and still she heard it. She did not start out as my mother but she adopted me, calling me her own from the moment we met.

Dragging my reluctant father to the very alley I was in, the two of them flew around the corner like a stray gust of wind. They were dressed tastefully, elegance that did not belong in such

a wicked alley. The contrast of beauty and filth was nearly blinding. He hung back his massive size, casting a shadow, but she approached with vigor. I think he was resistant because this

was not the first time she sought out a child. Her heart longed to be a mother, a aspiration unattainable because of what she was. She was an aunt and for a while it pacified the desire

she had. But her niece grew up so fast it soon left her with more yearning than fulfillment. It gave her but a taunting, fleeting glance at what she craved most. Once she thought that her

happiness was dependant upon her ability to conceive, but somewhere along the line that notion changed. Unethical as it might be, she wanted me.

When my father saw the man with the mustache striking me with the broom, he let his reflexes take charge. I was swiped out of harm's way and placed in my mother's cold but consoling

embrace. Both she and I would remember this as the first time she had ever held me. My head nestled against her, blocking my vision from my father's violent confrontation.

"You bastard! Why don't you beat up someone who can fight back," a voice thundered, amplified by the surrounding walls. My eyes clamped shut in fear of seeing a fight.

"She is my ward. The orphan brat needs to be taught to..."

But that was all I heard, for the shattering of flesh and bone ended him short. At the time, the sounds, while scary, were unbeknown to me. Her arms tightened protectively about my small

frame. We departed from that alleyway, walking at a hastened pace, but not too fast to draw unwanted attention. My father must have seen the immediate attachment in her eyes for he

chided her.

"You cannot keep her, Rosalie," he commanded in a muted growl. They were speaking English now, a language that any good street beggar knew well.

"But she is an orphan," she objected, her voice whining with ballad-like tones. I noticed her perfect angelic features, her rich milky skin.

"Then she'll go to an orphanage where orphans go," he replied coldly. He ran his huge hands through his untidy chocolate curls in aggravation. I think now he was upset about the life he

took. She, however, was not burdened with the same guilt.

"Why did you have to pick now to show your alter benevolent ego? You know we can not keep her," he barked in her ear as she strolled on, unmoved by his antagonism. It occurred to me

that they were discussing me. I did not mean to interrupt but my sobs slipped from my mouth. Pain besieged me.

"Ahhh ouch, Mia, ohhhh, Mia," I cried. Mia was my word for mother, the real Czech word was maminka or mamina. She began to rub my bruising hurts, her hands acting as the ice. I

suppose this is when he decided to pry me from her arms so he could precede with his plan, a plan he liked to call 'get rid of the stray orphan girl.' Squirming in his iron grasp, I called to

her.

"Mia, Mia, Mimi," I screamed frantically, my regard already set in stone. I kicked with all the might I could gather being sleep deprived and starved. When he finally surrendered and gave

me back, I was hostile.

"I'm here, sweetling," she whispered, angelic timbres ringing in my ears. I think my mother must have flashed her pleading eyes at my father, eyes that could get their every request, for

he relented.

"She can stay the night in the hotel with us but no longer. Be reasonable, babe."

At the hotel, my mother doted upon me, washing me gently and braiding my golden brown hair. She shared her lavender vanilla French shampoo, the one which she normally allowed no

one to so much as waft with out permission. Sniffing me, she then toweled me off with the oversized fluffy towel she never traveled without. At that moment, she gleamed at me as if she

was overly pleased with the fact that the sewage smell no longer clung to me. My filthy soiled smock was thrown out and she clothed me in a soft cotton baseball t-shirt that fell to my

bony ankles. I loved that t-shirt. It was mine from that day on.

I was always small for my age but I was clever. I curled up with her and watched cartoons, my skin tingly clean and my hair smelling like lavender. I felt safe lying against her winter

embrace, despite my shivering. To my left, my father sulked on the coral settee. Now I realized it was more the fact that I stole away his honeymoon attention than it was that he

disapproved of me. Who could blame him? Here they were in the most exclusive honeymoon suite and I was watching 'Sesame Street' with his wife.

Dinner that night consisted of every entree, appetizer, and dessert on the menu. Room service sent up several carts to deliver our oversized order. I ate well, but like all four-year-olds, the

food kept my attention for a matter of minutes. She would have force fed me if he did not stop her.

"Rose, leave her be. She knows if she is hungry or not. Humans do not take in as much as we do and she is small," he reminded as she spooned crème Brule between my lips. She was so

joyful and passionate, like a girl who had discovered dolls for the first time. Her eyes were honey, glazed with love; his were dark and worried.

It was later that night when I woke up crying for 'Popeye' that he first really held me. 'Popeye' was the only cartoon I had ever watched prior to tonight. It was my name for him and in my

four-year-old mind, it fit. He was an extremely strong and grouchy man. I held out my arms to him, crying harder when he did not come right away. My pretty new mother had left the room

minutes ago with the phone plastered to her ear. Now that she was gone, he looked totally clueless about what to do. At first he looked at me, then he went to the room's door to peer

down the hall in attempt to find her. But when he walked away, my sobs were louder and he came back and scooped me up.

"Popeye! Popeye! Popeyyyyyyye!" I cried on his stone shoulder.

"Popeye is here, little one, don't cry." And in his arms I stopped weeping. After a short while I stopped trembling, too. My mother slipped back in just as he was gently tucking me in under

the covers of the four post bed. She smiled in approbation and then kissed him and me. They were my parents from that instant on.

My mother was and is the most beautiful creature on earth and my father was her equal, a masculine idol himself. She was exquisitely attractive; he was extraordinarily buff. They looked

young, around eighteen to twenty, with the facade of high school sweethearts turned newlyweds. But in actuality, they had lived longer than most grandparents. They were the best

parents on earth but hardly human.

Before we left Prague, I was christened in an old cathedral, St. Nicholas church, near the Old Town Square in the historic district. I was appropriately named Emmalie Alice Marie Cullen.

For the next six months, we resided on the rural coast of Greenland, keeping to ourselves, renting a small fisherman's cottage while he was out at sea. My English, though baby talk, was

pretty fluent for a four-year-old and before a month's time, I was reading. My mother was overindulgent, giving me everything while my father was the practical disciplinarian. I think this

was a hard part for him to play; he would have much preferred to be my personal jester. And often he was making me laugh until I cried. But I needed structure. It was good that he

accepted the role, for my mother could not stand to see me cry, at least not at first. I believe the times I found myself in the biggest trouble were the times I directly challenged him. I see

now that he was only looking out for my best interest, but then it seemed like he was being a big bully.

It was one of those misty days in Greenland when both Mia and Popeye took turns going out to eat. I ate little of my breakfast that morning which displeased Popeye but he just gave me

'the look.' Then I lied to Mia when she came back and told her Popeye fed me lunch. When Popeye came home to our little cottage, he was less than thrilled about the fit I was throwing for

his wife about dinner.

"I's is not little anymore. I's don't have to eat. I's big like you!" I screamed throwing my little four-year-old body under the table. She was more hurt than frustrated, but she was not angry.

She would have let me throw fits well into my teen years. Popeye on the other hand yanked me out and started the questions that he knew the answers to.

"Did I just hear you raise your voice? Are you the same girl who did not eat any breakfast?" he interrogated, giving me a harmless shake. I was always mad when he was the mean

Popeye and not the funny one.

"She did not eat breakfast?" my mother questioned, overly worried.

"No! How did she eat for lunch?" barked my Popeye in response.

"She told me you fed her," my Mia confided in a small voice, her eyes darting back and forth between us.

"Emmalie Alice Marie Cullen! Did you lie to your mother?" I did not look scared. It's strange because most children would have been afraid of Emmett in his happy moods but not even his

bad moods fazed me. I looked at him defiantly and glared. His response was simple; he swiped me up and forced me into my chair.

"YOU WILL CLEAN YOUR PLATE AND THEN YOU'RE GOING STRAIGHT TO BED," he commanded in a fierce voice.

"No," I refused in my peppy little voice. Then I made the mistake of throwing my plate. He of course caught it and the confetti of noodles, then glared at me. In an instant I was scooped up

and carried to the corner. My nose pushed in with a mild slap to my rear. Instantly I started crying. He then sighed.

"You have to stay here for four minutes. Do you think you can do it?" Popeye questioned his voice now mildly upset.

"No, Emmett, please. She is crying...she will not do it again. Let her out," my Mia begged in a child-like voice. She was always my advocate.

"Rose, you have got to be kidding me. In our day, she would have received this plus a good sound leathering. She is staying here for four minutes!" Popeye declared, annoyed at her

resistance. I heard my Mia pout at his words.

"Emm, baby, please! I can't stand to see her unhappy," she griped, stomping her foot.

"Rose, really, you are worse than her. You are going to have to get better at this," he said firmly. He still had his hand on my shoulders pushing me into that corner. "Three minutes," he

announced, I think for both our sakes. She groaned in agony. He requested, "Emmalie, Popeye has to go distract your Mia. Do you think you can stand here like a good girl?"

I nodded. Anything that got me his praise was worth doing. And distract her he did. They sure did make a lot of noise. But when I tried to see what all the fuss was about, I was told to get

my nose to the wall. Standing there in that corner, I had no idea how he was diverting her. Now I have a crystal clear picture of what they were doing. After my Popeye claimed it had been

three minutes, I was let out, redeemed. And my Mia had a new found appreciation of 'corner time.' Needless to say, she never complained again.

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**End Notes:**

**So…those of you who know me, know that I love reviews.**

**I write for my readers, so feel free to ask?/ make comments.**

**I want this to be just as much your story as it is mine. : )**

**AJ**

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of Stephenie Meyer. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.**


	3. Soggy Old FOrks

**Author's Notes:**

**Next chapter... same thing it is all SM's. Oh to spend a day in her shoes.**

**oh and a shout out to mrsz. who has been more than a beta, more like a mentor. And luvfiction my cullen guru. **

**and jake my plot guy. **

**and you all...**

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We returned to the states, moving into my grandparents' house, around my fifth birthday. The lengthy plane ride I remember partly because it scared me to death. I clung to my Popeye

like a vine, whimpering when turbulence jolted the plane. My Mia tried her hardest to engross me in games and coloring, but I was so anxious I did not eat or drink. I just trembled, shaking

like an autumn leaf on a stormy night.

After three torturous lay-overs, a shuttle, and a fight with the airline about my 'lost' car seat, we were there. When we emerged from Fairchild International's main entrance, it was

drizzling an almost wintry rain, something that I would eventually get used to.

My Mia introduced me to her lonely, cherry-colored car, a car my father appropriately called her first-born. He did not share her regard for the car; to him the BMW was the enemy. I saw the

jealousy when her eyes lit up with love. The M3 was just waiting in the back of the empty, puddle-filled parking lot, dropped off by her sister earlier that day. She stroked its red waxy coat

as if it were her long lost pet. Her amber eyes gleamed with possession, and her lips curled into a content little smirk. As my mother sped blissfully home, overly pleased to be behind the

wheel, Popeye held me on his lap. His hands were wrapped securely about me, hands that were stronger than any harness.

They both were uncertain how their homecoming would be received. The car was ride was carried out in complete silence, their minds filled with worries. Only my faint breath could be

heard. The air was tense with anticipation, so tense that I gazed out the window for escape.

Forks was a far cry from Prague. If Prague was an evening gown, Forks was a faded cotton sweater. There was nothing about the place that made it stand out. It was the usual small

American town, consisting of pot-holed roads, small and struggling shops, and outdated buildings. Despite its lack of glamour, the place did have a certain appeal to it. It was peaceful and

unassuming.

My eyes tried to absorb the surroundings as my Mia sped by. She bit her lip in satisfaction as the speedometer climbed. My Popeye's large hand squeezed her thigh, as if to pinch her from

a dream. She put on a sulking expression and then let the speed drop down. As soon as we entered the town, we were leaving it. The scenery grew more rustic, the road narrower. We

kept going until the houses were few and the asphalt petered out to gravel. Next, she swung a tight right onto a long, tree-lined driveway. A series of turns kept me from seeing ahead. At

the end of the serpent-like drive, a rectangular house towered into the cloudy-gray skyline.

On the porch they waited, like stone statues, petrified. They all stood in different stances but the over all effect was the same. The body language read apprehensive, even a little

disgruntled. The greeting was similar to the way one would welcome a vermin into their kitchen. They were all hesitant about living with a human child. That is except my Aunt Alice.

The crackling of gravel ceased and the car came to a halt. Mia looked at me and sighed. Her slender fingers fiddled with the keys nervously; at the time I did not know why. Even in their

nervousness, they were inhumanly still. My parents feared facing their family's judgment. They were taking many risks by adopting me, risks to me and to themselves. But the trial period in

Greenland had my Mia convinced that it was possible. She now had to convince them.

Her gift had never been the power of persuasion. Perhaps it was her undying devotion to her loved ones that qualified as a power. While she was slow to accept just any as a loved one,

once you were, God help the soul who would dare to harm you. The reason they returned was not only to be with the ones they loved, but to return a son and daughter to a certain

heartbroken mother. My Popeye gave her a small pep talk.

"Remember, we've gone over this before. The Volturi made asses of themselves last time. I'll be surprised to see even Aro's humiliated face at Nessie's wedding. They are not likely to

come back before she is eighteen. They say, 'I'll see you tomorrow,' and you can expect them in a decade. When they do come, all eyes will be on Nessie. And if at any point we are

endangering the family, we will just up and leave." His points were simple, his game plan graspable. He would have made any little league coach proud. "And do not forget to tell them that

she is ..." he stopped noticing that I had turned in his lap and was intently tuned in to the speech. I'm sure he was going to say unappetizing, most likely tasteless or bland in smell, but he

just let his eyes do the talking. She gave him a childlike nod, then stepped out of the car, collected, smoothing her chic Gucci trench coat along her hourglass curves.

As soon as she got out, I eyed my Popeye, trying to make sense of what he had said.

"Popeye, who is coming to see us tomorrow?" I innocently asked, referring to his pep talk. It was rare that he spoke in such a serious tone. He looked at me for a moment with a golden,

pensive stare, then found an answer that would satisfy a five-year-old.

"The Tickle Monster," he said, his fingers burrowing under my arms, sending me into hysteria. We played that game for a few minutes before I begged the Tickle Monster to go away, and

my Popeye to come back. His trick to distract me worked for I did not ask any more questions about his little speech.

I remained, unaware, in the car while my Mia was confronted. My Popeye let me continue to sit on his lap in the front seat and play with the music dial. I questioned him about the buttons,

but his attention was worlds away; his eyes intent as a star gazer. He was focusing in on the heated conversation my Mia was involved in. Every now and then, I would glance up at my

Mia. Her hands moved passionately as she spoke. If the tall blond man she was talking to would just match her spirit, the conversation might have been more of a fight, but he was calm

and collected.

The tall house behind them reflected their paleness, a faded antique white. It too was beautiful. Around the open yard, I noticed that ancient trees rivaled the house's height. The old ferns

and cedars looked like they may have been there as long as the house. For a child used to the snug feeling of city streets lined in town houses, the vast space made me feel unclothed.

Wide stairs led to a huge porch, a porch that ran the length of the house then hugged gracefully around its sides.

I occupied the time by playing with the windows, making them go up and down, hoping I could hear what my Mia was saying. The cold Forks air was soggy and smelled like worms. The

conversation on the mouth of the porch steps was too muffled for me to hear so I resorted to turning on the windshield wipers. My Popeye's face was emotionless, his mind zoned out to

my doings. It was only when I decided to test out the horn that I got his attention. He flinched at the noise and then looked over to me smiling with his deep dimples. His chuckle was

raspy and warm.

"You drive like me already. Just remember, road-rage is only acceptable when your mother is not in the car," he said, tugging mischievously on one of my thick braids. His eyes were so

playful, they could have warmed even a freezer-burned heart. I giggled and went back to fiddling with the music dial.

Eventually, as if on cue, my father opened the car door and carried me to meet these strangers. Two of his large strides and we were before them. His embrace was as chilled as the air.

Usually, I felt safe in Popeye's trunk-like arms, so high off the ground that nothing could reach me. But these new people were just as intimidating. The men matched his menacing height

and looks. Quickly, I buried my head in his rigid rock of a shoulder. The meeting had my stomach tossing summersaults. My mother came swiftly to comfort me, her words soft like a lullaby.

"Don't you wish to meet my family...your family?" Her lips puckered in an attractive pout, and her honey eyes grew so big I could see the swirls of cinnamon surrounding her pupils. The

face should have been featured on the cover of some paperback Greek tragedy.

But I shook my head no, my braids flapping like puppy ears. She had asked and I had declined; I would have been perfectly content to fly home to Greenland. Who cared if that little shack

smelled like putrid fish guts or that frostbite warnings were announced daily on the news? Greenland was home. It mattered not to me that this place looked like a palace, a utopia on

earth. It was unfamiliar and looming as the statues before me.

In the back of my little mind, I was also afraid to accept this as mine. It was like the window shops near the holidays in my impoverished days in Prague. Not only was I not allowed to have

any of it, little barefoot girls like me were kicked out of the store. Once a storekeeper even shooed me away from the window, claiming I was smudging it with my filthy hands. No, this was

too new, too big, and too good for me.

"Maybe when I's is bigger I will meet them," I promised fearfully. I could hear her exasperated sigh. She pried me from my father and placed me down. Like always, she would have her

way, if not with honey then with something saltier. My father rolled his big eyes at her eagerness, and then smiled at the group of life-sized figurines.

"This is my mother, Emmalie," she told me, pushing me toward a smiling heart shaped face. The woman had her creamy brown hair pulled up, and her burgundy ear rings matched the

necklace around her ivory neck. She had a classic beauty to her; what it was specifically it was hard to pinpoint. As she gently kissed my forehead with her lips of frozen silk, I noticed her

honey-hued compassionate eyes. They were the mirror image of my Mia's.

"You may call me Nana or Esme, whichever you like," she offered, her melodious voice inviting. She had gracefully stooped so I could look into her eyes. At some point in my childhood, I

realized that a Cullen was the only known creature on earth that could, indeed, gracefully stoop.

"I's would like to call you both," I said in my baby talk, not wanting to choose the wrong thing. Then, the tall man who had been listening to my Mia knelt beside her, also reducing himself

to a less intimidating height. My emerald eyes looked him over watching for any reason to be wary.

"And this is my husband Carlisle," she introduced, her voice as comforting as a cashmere blanket.

"Welcome home, Emma. You may call me Papa Car if you like. We are glad to have you here at last," he said, his smile just as kind as his wife's. He was dressed professionally, his

appearance sleek. Not one dark blond hair was out of place. His eyes were honest. I awarded him with a hug; this I saw slightly pleased my Mia. Impatiently she continued the

introductions. But when she ushered me in front of two enormous giants, I retreated. Stretching my arms out, I ran to the only defense I had.

"Popeye!" I exclaimed in fright. I was in his strong arms immediately, my pallid face buried in his chest, a chest that was bubbling forth in laughter. A chorus of laughter followed, all

surprised by his name.

"_Popeye?"_ inquired an amused male voice, followed by snickering.

"Shut it, Edward. I want to keep our reunion G-rated, but if you make me, I'll have Em close her eyes, so I can teach you some manners," snarled my Popeye, his voice roguishly rough. His

face was as playful as ever, so I knew that he was only joking. "These, Emmalie, are your Uncles, Jasper and Edward. And they will be nice or Popeye will..."

"Emmett McCarty Cullen, you will not start making threats! Do you hear? And Jasper and Edward, can you please not torment your brother. I do not need any body-sized pit-holes in my

front lawn," spouted off Nana Esme in her mommy voice, her eyes patronizing. I peeked over Popeye's shoulder to glance at the giants. They both faked shame at the rebuke, but their

eyes held a good-natured promise. "You. Me. Out back. Later."

I evaluated these two monster-size uncles from my safe place. One was a little shorter, with a lovely face and messy bronze hair. The other was lean, with the trim body of a runner and a

equally handsome face. He had a stiff posture, but I noticed that his golden hair matched my Mia's almost hue for hue, honey blonde.

I saw that the stiff-postured one shared my aversion. He hung back, shifting from foot to foot like a sprinter preparing to get in the blocks. We both were not overly eager to meet one

another. It was strange that he would be afraid of me, some one so small, but he looked to be just that. He sent my Popeye an apologetic glance, and then with a nod walked into the

house with a refined poise. Everyone noticed, their dreamy eyes drifting somewhere unknown, perhaps the past. Papa Car followed him, giving a quick reassuring smile to his anxious

family. Later Jasper would learn that I was abnormally inhuman in aroma, but for now he avoided me as a precaution.

"I's met enough big peoples today. No mores, Popeye. I's afraid," I whispered in his ear, then snuggled deeper in his arms. The confession was sincere. He smoothed my hair and glanced

at my Mia. She was giving her brother an overly sour look for frightening me; she did not care if it was unintentional. Even under her death glares, his face lingered with a smile. I could tell

she was contemplating smacking the smug smile off his face. It was as if all the compassion and love I knew iced over.

Popeye's cold lips kissed my hair and his icy hands rubbed my back, setting my mind at rest. I notice while he was comforting me, he was also angling his body to stop my Mia from

wrestling his brother to the ground.

"How about a puny-small person? Would you care to meet any of them," he mocked teasingly to a woman I had not yet noticed, her small body hidden by the smug man's massiveness. I

peeked up over his broad shoulder curious to meet someone small. My Mia gave up her war plans and took me to her, eager to share me.

"Hi, Emmalie, I'm Alice," said the elfin women in her bubbly voice. Her pixie-like body was swathed in a sage green wrap dress. Her face was warm and adoring; her smile was perfect. The

halo of short wispy black locks was partly covered by her headband and her wrist glittered from the many bangles they adorned. Her appearance was meticulous, even her golden eyes

matched. The perfume-like aroma coming from her was like an exotic spice. She had an overall allure about her. I looked at her and gasped.

"When I's naughty, the middle of me is named Alice too," I connected happily. Alice's nose crinkled as her mouth spread into a brassy smile. I couldn't tell she did not believe me or did not

know what I was talking about. "Emmalie Alice Marie Cullen," I recanted perfectly for her, folding my hands behind me in a recital-type manner. Understanding glazed over Alice's tawny

eyes and for a moment her mouth fell open. It was a rare thing to tell Alice something she did not already know. My mother chuckle making my cheeks flush rosy with color, I had no idea I

had said anything funny.

"She was named after some eccentric, shopaholic, psychic girl I know," my Mia admitted nonchalantly, shrugging her slender shoulders, trying to steer clear of further explanation. Alice

looked at my Mia amazed, but my Mia tried to turn her eyes away to hide her fondness. She rarely verbally affirmed her love for her sister; she did not like making herself vulnerable. But if

the time came to prove it, she would.

Alice stood up and launched herself at my Mia, hugging her affectionately, hanging from her neck. My Mia stood paralyzed in surprise. She wanted to avoid sentiments, but she returned

the hug out of sisterly duty. My new Nana stood there, beaming at the two with the fondness of a mother. I liked Alice right away. She was sweet, not in the least bit scary, well, maybe a

little.

"Where is my little sis and the shrimp?" my Popeye demanded intruding on the moment. With his disappointed puppy face, he looked left and right, then accusingly at the others. The man

with the metallic-like hair moaned as if recalling a festering wound.

"They went on a mother-daughter trip. I swear Bella is planning first-degree postmortem murder. Doesn't she know what this does to me?"

"Sorry, bro. Women don't think like that. I'm sure they'll be back in no time flat. This is the time you enjoy not having to listen to her endless prattle or her self absorbed thoughts," my

Popeye stage-whispered, flinging his arm around his brother's shoulder and walking up the steps to the house in a blasé manner. His comic relief was like a rain cloud over a scorched

thirsty land. The agitated guy seemed instantly comforted by the reassurance. My Mia gnashed her pearl teeth at Popeye's back, her gem-like eyes narrowing into angry slits. She had the

scare factor of a crouching tigress, yet I saw my Popeye glance over his shoulder mischievously at her. He loved to irk her.

"Emma, promise me you will never marry."

"Sure, Mia. Pinky-promise," I vowed fervently, unsure of what she was referring to. My Popeye teased her like a smitten little boy at recess. It was his love language. If you were the butt

of my Popeye's jokes, you were at the center of his heart.

My mother and father were always passionate souls. This is not to say that they did not fight. They did that and more, but their makeup sessions were as steamy and zealous as the

altercation itself. Their companionship helped to compensate for any flaws. He let her see the world through new eyes; she gave him confidence that he somehow lacked. They needed

each other. This perhaps was the reason their fights lasted for a maximum of four hours.

"I'm going to park the car in the garage and do some quick tuning, alright, sweetling? Go with Nana and Alice and I'll be in soon," she directed gently, annoyance still plaguing her beautiful

face. Her mother gave her an understanding smile, then let her depart with a tight hug.

While Nana and Mia embraced, Alice sized me up. The wheels in her little head were turning. With nimble fingers she ripped out the tags from both my shirt and jeans, smiling at the size as

she tucked it into safe keeping. Next she lifted up my foot, measuring it like a blacksmith preparing to shoe a horse. I thought all of this was peculiar, but I complied out of esteem for my

new aunt. My Mia growled at her in annoyance, but Nana cupped her face between her hands, as if to bring her back to focus.

"I missed you much, Rose. Don't stay away that long again," she whispered with emotion. Her soft eyes were tender with maternal love. I could tell that her eyes saw my Mia differently.

She saw past her beautiful mask, even past her pettiness. It was the same way my Mia looked at me, unconditionally in love. "Oh, and Rose. Your toolbox is over on the left work bench.

We had to make room for another of Jasper's new bikes." My Mia nodded, annoyed at her brother, then strutted back to her car.

The tool box was her comfort item; her tinkering was her coping mechanism. Often times the fights would end up with my Mia tinkering. I knew the process now. Even at five, I knew more

about cars then most grown women. She would replace all filters, raising head and port polishing. She would check her ECU, then fine tune. Every now and then, big changes would occur

like a brake change, suspension overhaul, or a newly needed clutch upgrade. General tinkering involved the uptake of the turbochargers and spoiler. The woman dreamed in horse power.

The tachometer and speedometer were so off sometimes it was laughable.

One thing was for sure, when they were fighting, she would slam things around. My Popeye would then come along and try to overcome her anger with affectionate caresses. The first few

attempts were futile. He would get hit with a wrench or any of the other available metal tools. Eventually, he would get her to come around. It was as if they were spellbound; they could

only resist each other for so long before they gave into the magic.

I watched the red car whiz to a steel out-building, then considerately let the two women lead me up the stairs, holding my hands since the steps were too tall for my small gate. Nana

gracefully held the front door, but before I crossed into the Cullen threshold, I was diverted by a small croak. Delighted, I skipped over to the source of the sound and scooped up a captive

from the wet porch floor. The small frog squirmed in my childlike grasp. I asked my new Nana if he could come in too. Alice's face twisted in disgust; Nana donned a forced, plastic-like smile.

"Why, of course," she said with tight lips and wide eyes. Alice looked at Nana, surprised by her consent. The Cullen household abided by a 'no pets whatsoever' policy. Since my mother

claimed they were allergic to every sort of animal, I never asked for a puppy. In Greenland, we had tried the goldfish thing. Sadly, it didn't work out; both of my goldfish died of cardiac

arrest when my Popeye attempted to feed them. This was when my Mia formed the rule about pets. _But small exceptions such as frogs or snakes should be allowed_, reasoned my

five-year-old mind.

I was perceptive, even as a child. Seeing their dislike with my amphibian friend, I decided he could stay on the porch. But before releasing him, I made sure that I was not passing up a life

of royalty. I kissed him and then sat him down disappointedly.

"He's no prince anyhow," I said with a little kid shrug. My Nana and Alice both stifled a laugh at such a fairytale belief. I went on to explain to them that, one day, I would indeed find a 'real

one.' This time, they both just laughed freely. I stood there confused at their laughter. Alice, seeing my confusion, pranced over to me and scooped me up with the genteelness one would

use when cupping a butterfly. To her I was probably just as delicate. She told me she did not doubt that I would. A kiss to my nose was all it took and I burst into giggles, shedding my

shyness. I went into the house babbling endlessly to Alice and Nana Esme who gave me their full attention. _Maybe_, I thought, _I will not mind soggy old Forks, after all._

_

* * *

_

**End Notes:**

**As always tell me what you think...: )**

**love to hear from you**

**AJ**

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of Stephenie Meyer. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.**


	4. Honeymooners and Sneaky Uncles

**Autho****r's Notes:**

**Same discalimer as always SM owns it all.**

**Thanks goes to:**

**Charity and Ashely who are more than betas, more like mentors,**

**To Jake who always will talk plot with me,**

**And you the reader. **

**

* * *

**

The transition into Cullen family life was virtually painless, a fact my parents were immensely grateful for. Loving a Cullen was like loving chocolate; it came naturally. Well, to me it did

anyway. One would have thought I had hit the jackpot when I heard I had another aunt and a cousin. I was the luckiest girl in the whole world. To go from having nothing to having

everything was like meeting Santa after some Grinch had told you he was a phony. My wildest dreams couldn't have fabricated anything this close.

Only one snag had bogged down my Mia and Popeye: the strain of being 24-7 parents had taken its toll on their relationship. As of recent, they had been drilled through a sort of parent

boot camp. While, I'm sure they treasured our first few months together, I had forced them into an agonizing abstinence. Well, perhaps it was not total abstinence; that was beyond them.

They were not that saintly. It was simply that their allotted time for lovemaking was no longer without interruption. I often woke up in the middle of the night and intruded, asking to get

into bed with them. To them, it was the most painstaking inconvenience and they both had turned into real grumps.

In one day, Popeye punched a hole in the wall over a lost bet, and Mia had it out with my Uncle Edward over some snide remark that only she heard. She showed her displeasure by

ripping a score of his music into confetti which she then tossed over his head. He responded by threatening to shave her head. I watched with wide eyes, while Popeye kept Uncle Edward

from dishing out justice. Nana and Uncle Jasper finally broke it up, threatening to call Papa Car home from his morning rounds.

Seeing the exhausted and edgy state of the first-time parents, Nana practically pushed them out the door, insisting they take some time to themselves. Mia and Popeye consented and

agreed to give their honeymoon another chance. Suitcases were packed in an instant; only four days after we had moved in, they were leaving again.

Mia lingered at the door for a long time, bidding me goodbye. I could sense the tension in her perfect posture. Leaving me was harder for her than she could have ever imagined. The

internal battle painfully tugged her heart strings in opposing directions. For a moment, I thought my begging had swayed her to stay, but my Popeye was the voice of reason. He convinced

her that not only was it in the best interest of the family, but the continual existence of her hair depended upon it.

They had no doubt that I was in safe hands as they left me to bond with my new family. It was little more than a weekend trip, four days at the most. Moreover, they would be 'a phone

call away.' It was always the promise, to her and to me.

Aunt Alice's shoulder was sodden with tears; even an hour later, I was still weeping in her arms. Nana sat next to her, humming in my ear, calming my sprit. While I was convinced that

aunts and nanas were God's gift to mankind, they were no replacement for mothers. Alice distracted me to the best of her girly abilities. She painted my toes and I watched as if she were

magic. I saw her as my first friend, and I loved her dearly. The only complaint I had against Aunt Alice was that, for some reason unbeknownst to me, she married tricky Uncle Jasper.

Uncle Jasper was devious; I discovered this the first two nights he conducted bedtime. When he put me to bed, no matter how much I wanted to jump on the feathered mattress, I was

asleep in seconds - emotionally drained. I only let Uncle Jasper put me down twice before I announced that he was banned from the bedtime routine.

"Why?" he asked, as Nana's grandfather clock chimed in the corner. His smile was smug; Uncle Jasper's eyes even appeared to be laughing. It was as if he had a secret that I did not know

about. He was the illusionist, while I was the ignorant audience. I glared up at him with all the fury a five-year-old could rally.

"Because you cheat!" I yelled, putting my hands on my bony little hips. My jaw flexed in defiance. The room bubbled with laughter, drowning out the sweet, familiar melody of Uncle

Edward's piano. Despite my love for Bach's 'Air on a G string,' I kept my mean face on. Uncle Jasper looked at me questioningly, still faintly amused about my allegations.

Uncle Edward turned a page of music and pivoted on his piano bench, a smile flashing across his face. Alice scooped up the cards from our recent 'Go Fish' game with nimble fingers. Her

smirk, as well, was all knowing, yet she too ignored my finger pointing. I stomped my new designer boots, demanding the attention they were denying me. Nana gave in and came to my

side in attempt to pacify me.

"Rose said she was observant," Nana Esme said, lifting me up from the ground. Her maternal nature took over; she must have felt a fit coming on. She stroked my back gently, walking

toward the stairs.

"Nana Esme, he really is a cheat. I just know it," I alleged, working myself to tears thinking they did not take me seriously. I was mad, misunderstood, and so not ready for bed. They were

still laughing, unaware of my water-brimmed eyes. Of course, they thought this was amusing. _I will show them_, I thought. I squirmed free and ran over to a pile of fresh shopping bags from

Milan.

"No!" lamented my Aunt Alice, before I even had made it across the vast room. I quickly found a blue lace dress and ripped at it with all my might until I heard the tear. My hand went into

the next bag, intent on further destruction. I could hear Uncle Jasper growl and Aunt Alice gasp. As always, my Uncle Edward caught me before I could finish my naughty rampage. He was

always the one to catch me, sometimes even before I did anything.

"No, you don't," he admonished, tugging me toward the couch. I immediately struggled like a little fish on a hook, but he hauled me there effortlessly. I was certain he was going to hold

me down so Uncle Jasper could take his revenge, but he laughed and corrected me.

"No, Emma, I am not going to hurt you. Now stop squirming," he demanded, still amused. He restrained me in his metal cage-like grip, and pulled me onto his lap. Tears burned like fire in

my emerald eyes. Eventually, I calmed down enough to look around at the blurry figures. Uncle Jasper was no longer smug, just cold. His eyes flashed to my Aunt Alice, who was clearly

distraught by the death of her lingerie. My Nana Esme looked sad, so sad it made me feel like crying anew. I knew I had found the right way to get back at Uncle Jasper and all my

disbelieving family. Yet, now it did not feel so good. Suddenly, I realized they may no longer like me. More tears rolled down my flushed cheeks. I wanted my Mia and Popeye; they loved

me even when I was horrid.

"And we love you too. It's just, presently, we are all sad to see you acting poorly," my Uncle Edward claimed in his perfect, silken voice. He hugged me in his cold arms. My Uncle Edward

was also a daddy. His Nessie was old now and never bad like me, Mia told me - those not being her exact words. Nessie and her Mia were on a trip; I had been waiting to meet them.

I hugged him because he appeared to be my only ally at the moment. "What do you say we give Emm- I mean Popeye a call," he suggested, promptly wiping my tear stained face with one

of my Elmo tissues.

"But Popeye said only 'mergencies and breathkiss time," I recalled between sobs, hitching my breath. He did not bother to correct the mispronunciation of the words. He swiped my

tear-matted hair out of my face and smiled half way._ Probably 'cause half of him is still mad at me_, I thought to myself.

"I think we can get him to make an exception," he stated hopefully. Looking around, I found that the large, open, sitting area was now empty save for us two. Nana Esme was talking to

Papa Car on her silver phone in the open foyer area and Uncle Jasper was comforting Aunt Alice around the corner. His hushed voice was sweet and consoling. The rotten feeling grew

even stronger. I realized that Uncle Edward was already talking to my Popeye; my heart pounded as he gave the incriminating account of my behavior. Then, the phone was pressed to my

little ear.

"Emmalie Alice Marie Cullen, did you destroy your Aunt Alice's overpriced negligee?" he inquired sternly, but he seemed as if he might have been smiling. Sometimes, he was funny and

stern all in one moment.

"I think so, Popeye," I whispered into the phone. Really, I was wondering what a 'negligee' was.

"Why?" he asked harshly. I wished he would tell me a funny joke instead of barking questions. I tried to remember the Popsicle stick joke I read this afternoon, but he got too impatient.

"Emmalie?"

"I wanted to get back at Uncle Jasper and I knew that would work," I confessed honestly.

"What? I don't think I understand you. Are you telling me, that you hurt Aunt Alice, to get back at Uncle Jasper?"

"Yes, Popeye, I already said that," I scolded, frustrated that he was not listening. He could not hold in his growl. He growled whenever I gave him my sass. He claimed it was the one thing

that made me, without a doubt, my mother's daughter; that and my fits.

"Popeye, why do you bark at me? You are the one who stole my Mia. And Uncle Jasper is a nighttime story skipper, so I get none, ever! No 'Fumblilina' or 'Peanutbutter Pan', noffin! He is a

big cheater. I should bark at you, Popeye. This is your fault," I said in my best Mia imitation, I even added a faint growl at the end.

Audible tidal waves of laughter boomed though the minute speaker, causing me to have to pull the phone away in attempt to save my eardrums. I clenched the small phone and glared at

it. But Uncle Edward pried it from my fingers before I could fling it.

"Come on, Emmett," he negotiated, speaking into the silver phone. "She obviously misses you and she is at the age where she doesn't understand laughing." He paused and rolled his

tawny eyes. "...Emmett, do you honestly think I care what you and Rose were in the middle of?" my Uncle Edward continued slightly annoyed, a grimace of disgust on his face. "Put her

on," my Uncle demanded, winking at me. "...Rose..." and then he rambled so fast I could not make out the words.

I was ecstatic at the thought of Mia. Uncle Edward was the best at making Mia do what he said. Well, not really; it was more that he was not afraid of telling her the truth. Mia listened to

Nana Esme and Papa Car. Mia sometimes listened to Popeye, but only when he was playing the role of peacekeeper.

"Ok, I'll give her the message." _Yayyy!_ I shouted in my head. "Whatever, Rose. Just don't keep her waiting to long. It's late," he reminded, snapping the silver phone shut.

I started jumping up and down when I heard the words. But Uncle Edward had to be the party pooper. "I would not be that happy if I were you," he warned. "Your Mia says that until they

get home, you can wait in the naughty corner."

"Oh, Uncle Edward, I do not mind, honestly," I said shaking my head back and forth. He tried not to smile, but I think only half of his faced listened again.

"Alright then," he said, raising one eyebrow at me. By this point, I realized that the others were in the room.

"Can it be the glass corner, so I can watch for the red Barbie car?" I asked, referring to the glass wall that faced the winding drive.

My Uncle Edward looked over at the glass wall and nodded. I ran faster than any kid had ever run to any corner in history. But all of a sudden, I was side tracked and had to disclose my

reason for excitement. I quickly ran over to Nana Esme and shared.

"They are coming home because I was bad," I announced wrapping her slender legs in a hug, then pulling away to dance around. I was so happy, I did not hear the side door creak open.

"Uh-ohh," said my Papa Car, taking off his jacket as he walked through the door. He was always helping the sick people and he often got home late.

"Sounds like a misconception to me. Should we re-inform her or let the first-time parents do the job?" he asked, kissing my beautiful Nana. Nana's face lit up like the morning sun. He

pressed his forehead to hers and they seemed to dance in each other's embrace.

"I have already raised mine. I think I would rather just spoil her rotten and let them do all the dirty work," she said with her smile. When Nana smiled like that, she looked so young. Papa

Car pulled away realizing he had an audience. He tossed me in the air until blissful giggles echoed in the large room.

"So, Thumbelina," he said, using his nickname for me derived from my favorite story. "What was this naughty deed which has your parents coming home two days early from their favorite

love spot?"

I looked down at my toes and then bit my lip. Papa Car, who was entirely upright, was big on treating other people acceptably. Ripping up other people's newly purchased dresses did not

fit into his code of conduct.

"I really don't want you to know too, Papa Car. It will just make you sad at me," I explained, not looking at him.

If I had been looking, I'm sure he would have been smiling. He loved my made up phrases...

_You are sad at me_ (I have upset you),

_Don't give me the black eye _(stop staring at me),

_Don't use your ice-cream hands _(your hands are cold),

_Mermaid time _(bath time)_,_

_Mermaid fishing time _(the time when you try to get me out of the bathtub)_, _

_Thunderball_ (my nickname for baseball)_,_

_The Car House _(the garage)_, _

_Monkeyback _(same as piggyback),

_I am un-listening _(I heard you but I am doing my own thing),

_Magic money cards_ (_Alice's_ credit cards),

_The game turn-er on-er _(the remote control),

And last but not least, every ones favorite saying_,_

_Popeye is putting Mia to bed. That's why she cries so much _(the explanation I gave my extended family when I answered the phone for my Mia, because she was 'napping').

"Well, I am not going to make you tell me, but I always try to give advice when I can," he told me with another icy peck to my cheek as he set me down. He always found a gentle way to

provide guidance, never forcing anything on anyone.

"What is 'vice, Papa Car?" I freely asked. Papa Car was always teaching me new words. He was like a walking dictionary.

"Well, advice tells you what you should do next," he shared in his teacher voice, he over-enunciated the word 'advice.' He explained just about anything, except where babies came from -

he did not know that one.

"Oh, I already got some of that. I'm 'posed to wait in the corner," I clarified quickly, not really wanting more of that advice stuff. He fought bemusement, his face only disclosing a phantom

of a smile, appearing and disappearing as fast as it came. My Uncle Edward decided to help him out, he being a Popeye too.

"No, advice would entail possibly apologizing to Aunt Alice," he said, glancing over to my little Aunt Alice. She was running her small hands through her gorgeous black hair, the contrast of

ink on paper. As soon as he said it, I remembered what I did and began to cry.

"Aunt Alice, I am sooooo sorry. I should not have broken your princess dress," I exclaimed running to her. She immediately picked me up and stroked my back with her snow cold hands.

"I forgive you, Emmalie," she told me in her flute-like voice. She did not ever stay mad at me; her temperament was always so even.

"It is just that Uncle Jasper is a big fat story skipper. And that makes him a chea..."

"Emmalie," interrupted my Papa Car in a low, disapproving tone, his brows pulled together. "Typically, when one is apologizing, one does not insult the person's spouse."

"Papa Car, I never insulted her mouse, just Uncle Jasper," I defended, perplexed at his words. He still looked at me with his angry eyebrows lowered. The cute card was sooo not going to

work.

"No, Emmalie. Her spouse, your Uncle Jasper," he explained. His paternal stare told me to stop, but I still wanted to persist in my point. Uncle Jasper decided to fix the problem before it got

too out of hand. He was always the gentleman, well, most always.

"Emmalie, I am sorry that I skipped your bedtime stories. I promise to take your bedtime more seriously from now on," he said, his golden eyes sincere. My Uncle Jasper was still learning

to be an uncle. He was not naturally fond of children. His other niece was easier for him to get along with, more like him. At his promise, I wiggled down from my Aunt Alice and cuddled his

solid legs. He was a little dumbfounded by my display of affection, but he played it cool.

"And you will read stories?"

"Yes," he conceded with a sigh of defeat.

I tore up the steps and returned with my worn copy of _Thumbelina_ and handed it to him eagerly. He snarled slightly, but he took it, letting me curl up in his lap as he read. Aunt Alice and

Uncle Edward watched, pleased with the tortured look on Uncle Jasper's face. He fought to keep the boredom from tinting his voice. I was careful to remind him when he skipped a page.

"The mouse page, Uncle Jasper! We missed it," I pointed out before he could start with the next page. He was _very_ grateful for my help.

"So we did," he admitted begrudgingly, "the pages must have been stuck together." He flipped back, tearing the corner of the page. When we finished, I sighed contentedly, almost

asleep. Uncle Jasper looked over at his wife, who was trying to piece together the remains of her lingerie. She gave up and tossed it back in the bag.

"Next time I slip, I know who I am going after," he said, getting her full attention and a judgmental sigh from my newspaper reading Papa. 'Slip' was one of those commonly used words

that no one really explained to me.

"And who would that be?" she asked, none too alarmed. I had no idea what they were talking about.

"The sick-minded fool who thought it was acceptable to write a 57 page picture book," he growled, muttering the author's name under his breath. My Nana clicked her tongue at him and

came over to gather me. "I know what you're thinking, Carlisle, but I am confident parents everywhere would praise me for it." Alice laughed and pried the book from my sleepy grip. Nana

started to hum to Uncle Edward's playing, but I sprung up, resisting anything that remotely resembled an attempt to get me to my bed.

"You will read 'Fumbalina' with me, tomorrow?" I asked, making him verify his promise. His lean, handsome face smiled at me. He put his hands on his knees, bowing, so that we saw eye

to eye.

"I will read _Thumbelina_ every night until I can convince you that I am no cheat," he stumbled on the last word. He was his hardest critique; he probably felt guiltier over this than he

deserved to. But why not use it to my advantage?

"WOW, I'm sure glad we got home when we did," boomed a familiar voice. "Next, she will be requesting that you dress up as Snow White and sing Yankee Doodle dandy." My Popeye was

carrying all of my Mia's designer suite cases though the front door - he was her own, personal bell-hop. I would have run to hug him were he not masked by the pile of luggage. Instead, I

jumped, jittery with excitement.

"Would you really do that, Uncle Jasper?" I demanded animatedly, giggling at the thought, thrilled about the arrival of my parents.

"Maybe the Snow White part, but never Yankee Doodle, never EVER Yankee Doodle," he said, wincing in revolt. Everyone chuckled, even I did. Uncle Jasper said that Yankee Doodle was a

very bad song, but not nearly as bad as the 'Yankee Doodle Dandelion' song.

Uncle Edward left the room abruptly. He may have harbored some hard feelings towards my Mia. When I was young, I never noticed the underlying abhorrence they had for each other.

Moreover, when I did, I was convinced that somewhere deep inside they really did like each other, even if they were not consciously aware of the fact. The problem was they were always

conscious.

"Why are you not in the corner?" questioned my Mia in her hissy voice, her perfect eyes narrowed in vexation. She was still dressed like beach Barbie, even though she came back to our

rainy, old house.

"MIAAAA," I shrieked as I skipped to her, too happy to be taken aback by her scolding. She knelt down, embracing me, and I flung myself at her, hard enough to induce bruising. She

smelled like sandboxes and flowers. I happily cried on her sundress before she pulled me away. I inhaled her scent, trying to memorize it by heart.

"I missed you with my whole heart," I said sincerely. I hugged her tightly as if I was never going to let go.

"Me too," she agreed. Her chalk-white thumb swabbed away my salty tears and her pretty lips curled into a smile. Her love was like a locket I could wear around my neck; everyone could

see it.

My Popeye looked in the shopping bag and smiled. "Huh...not bad, squirt. I think you're getting stronger," he commented before trudging up the stairs with all the stuff. My Mia rolled her

eyes at the misplaced affirmation. Aunt Alice shot him a death glare. But I turned my attention back to my Mia.

"Do you want to play Sleeping Beauty with me? You can be Rose and I'll be Milly-phant?" My eyes were wide as I invited her to play. She looked at me like I stepped on her pedicured toe. I

was being nice; I always asked to be Sleeping Beauty and she had to be the dragon lady with the funny name. Despite the gesture, she declined.

"You have to do time-out and then we have to go be real sleeping beauties," she said, raising her little brows above her honey eyes and glancing down at the watch I got her for Mommy's

Day.

"If you don't cry at bedtime, neither will I," I promised, referring to the cries I heard on occasion. Mia's perfect face faded from bewildered to horrified. Popeye, who was back from carrying

Mia's traveling wardrobe, tossed his head back in laughter. He was always in a blissful mood after spending time with her.

"Your Mia only cries at bedtime because she is such a whiner," Popeye explained, messing up my Mia's hair with his big hands. I glared at him, impersonating my Mia. Sometimes, he was

not very considerate of a lady's hair. Yet, he did recently save her from eternal baldness. Maybe, he was entitled to mess up her hair a little. He kissed away her feigned pout. When his

lips met hers, any displeasure melted like snow in the noon sun.

"I'm not a whiner, Popeye," I reminded proudly, fighting for my share of attention. He gave me a bear hug and pulled me away.

"Will you do corner time with out whining?" he requested with his eyebrows raised. That meant it was a challenge.

"Bet you I can," I said meeting the dare. But, I immediately regretted telling him that I could. He pointed to a daunting corner and I went looking over my shoulder for reassurance. I was

always very sensitive about time-out.

He had to tell me to face the corner at least a dozen times. I think I kept on turning around to make sure he was still there, to see if he was happy with me. After I did my time of five

minutes, or in child time - 45 to life, I was allowed to come out. I immediately ran to him and asked how I did, to which he just tickled me into fits of joy. I crumpled on the floor in laughter,

but I still did not say_ it_. He rolled down on the floor with me, wrestling gently.

"Aww, come on say it," he encouraged in his playful tease. I rolled this way and that, squirming like a caterpillar, trying to escape his giant fingers. Several pairs of adoring eyes watched

us wrestle. Not even my mother offered a refuge from the onslaught of tickling.

"Say it, Emma," he continued until I gave in, white flag up. His eyes were so golden, they shined. He smiled his usual carefree smile.

"I'mmm...heeeheheheh, daddy's...he he...girl," I squealed between giggles.

"How long?" he prompted with yet more tickles.

"For... heehehahaa," I started but could not finish. A tickling finger got under one of my arms.

"Forever," I screamed quickly, when I could take no more. I kissed my adoring audience goodnight. Then like always, I was wrapped in a bear hug, carried away to bedtime and sweet

dreams.

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**End Notes:**

**Review and make my day!**

**XOXOX**

**AJ : )**

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of Stephenie Meyer. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.**


	5. Guess Who

**Author's Chapter Notes:**

**As always, the same disclaimer applies. All Twilight characters are property of Stephenie Meyer and I am NOT she! The plot is mine, as is my OC, Emmalie.**

**The first few chapters are more of a PG rating. We will get to the good stuff later!**

**

* * *

**

Three days later, I was plagued by an unquenchable boredom. The Fork's weather was slightly more vicious than normal, caging me inside. My Popeye and I resigned to assisting Mia in

the 'car house,' but that only lasted so long.

He handed her different tools upon request, one giant shoulder jacking up the car. While trying to help her, he also had been trying to amuse me. She would ask him for a certain thing and

he would purposely hand her the opposite.

"Babe, could you hand me a line wrench?" she asked sweetly, her little greasy hand sticking out from under the car. He picked up a tool, but I stopped him.

"Popeye, that is not a line wrench! It's a monkey wrench," I said giggling. He smiled at me as he intentionally made yet another mistake. "And that isn't either. That is a lug wrench, for the

wheels, Popeye." His dimples furrowed even deeper, when I giggled.

Mia, however, did not think the game was funny. She slid out on her red-leathered creeper, giving us a silencing glare. She proceeded to get the line wrench, mumbling to herself. She only

put up with us for about ten minutes, before she pointed us to the door.

Instead, the two of us settled on Option B: board games. My playmates were limited for a number of reasons. Uncle Jazz was in the basement doing some 'work,' while Alice was filtering

closets, purging us of clothes she considered to be unacceptable. My grandparents left on a trip earlier that morning. Uncle Edward agreed to play a game with us. He, however, did not

seem too happy over the selection of 'Guess Who.' We camped on the plush white rug, which covered the cherry floors in the sitting area. I nestled next to Popeye, accepting his

assistance with the whole 'yes or no question-thing,' since I still did not get it.

"Ask Uncle Edward, if his person has a big forehead like him?" my Popeye would direct, with a cold whisper. I would look over at my Uncle and giggle to my Popeye. Uncle Edward's

forehead was perfect but that did not keep my Popeye from messing with him.

"I'm not gonna ask that, Popeye," I told him, shaking my head, pigtails smacking against my face. My Uncle Edward had already threatened to stop playing if my Popeye kept_ it_ up. I of

course did not understand what _it_ was. Edward, now, just glared at my Popeye with dark eyes, his dexterous fingers tapping so hard against the plastic that it threatened to splinter.

"Honestly, Emmett, if you're not going to teach her to play right, why are we even playing?" he asked curtly. I began to feel sad.

"Ohhh, Uncle Edward, please! Don't stop playing, please," I begged. He grinned, and then his head whipped to the front of the house, as if only he had heard the doorbell ring. He stood

up rapidly and looked at me with a smile.

"Let me guess. Your person is Anne with the earrings," he said, his all knowing smile still dazzling holding me captive. Unlike most kids who lost a game, I was delighted that he figured it

out.

"You're right, Uncle Edward! You're right!" I exclaimed, wondering just how he did it. I hugged his legs and beamed up at him and said, "When I grow up, I hope I can play 'Guess Who'

just as good as you can," I confided candidly.

I heard my father mutter and shove the game back in its box, nearly breaking the plastic frames. He shot his brother a jealous glare, and then picked me up.

"Your Uncle Edward is not as great as you make him out to be, Emma. He really is just a cheat, just like your Uncle Jasper," he said self-righteously, his coffee and cream eyes big like they

always were when he was telling me a story. My Uncle Edward let a sigh slip through his lips and went over to look out the door. My Popeye watched him with a grin. Just then, Alice

descended the spiral stairs and nodded approvingly at the large Grandfather clock.

"Just in time," she said to herself. She too looked very elated, more so than usual.

Motionless, they stood in anticipation, golden eyes all fixed at the door. Confused, I looked to my Popeye, who gave me a few butterfly kisses. Suddenly, the door flew open, smashing

against Nana's Esme's egg-shell-white wall.

I immediately squirmed down and ran to hide in the corner, behind my Papa Car's oversized leather chair. My heart fluttered as I peeked out to witness a beautiful girl skidding across the

room. She was about sixteen, her body boyishly thin and her skin a creamy ivory. As she ran, her bronze ringlets flung behind her like shimmering banners. Her rich brown eyes were

overflowing with affection, as she launched herself into Uncle Edward's arms.

"Daddy," she squealed, her smile a warm reflection of Uncle Edward's. "I missed you," she confessed sweetly, laying her beautiful head on his shoulder. She did not have the reserve of a

typical teen. Instead, she cuddled with him like I would my Popeye. His response was a joyous laugh.

"I missed you too, sweetheart. Why, I just sat here and moped until you and your Momma came back," he teased, placing a tender kiss in her silk curls.

"Oh, Daddy, you didn't, did you? I told Momma we shouldn't leave you that long," she shared with her doe-like eyes, consumed with worry and regret. But he banned her worry in an

instant with an obstinate stare. He brushed his hands crossed her cheek and it was as if some unspoken secrets were passed between them. Her eyes still held a little worry.

"Now, now, I can see that you enjoyed yourself and that is what matters," he reminded, placing a kiss on her little nose. He sat her back on her feet.

"Oh, Daddy, you'll not believe the melody I thought up on the ride home. I can not wait to play it for you; I know you'll just love it." I looked around and noticed all eyes were now on her.

Not even my Popeye noticed my absence.

"Oh, Alice," the girl exclaimed affectionately as she embraced my pixie-like Aunt. They hugged for a moment more as if sharing something the others did not. As they pulled away, Alice's

warm loving face suddenly twisted in appall. "Yes, I know, Alice. These are the jeans you keep throwing away. And yes, I do keep pulling them from the trash," she added noticing her

Aunt's renewed disgust. Alice stood speechless. But the girl sweetly kissed away any hard feelings and smiled before dashing to my Popeye.

He embraced her, boosting her a full three feet off the ground. He was giving her my bear hugs. I watched the scene through angry slits of eyes.

"Need to take in - 300 mL of O2 - a minute. Must breathe," she muttered dramatically, between forced breaths. She demonstrated her teenage histrionics quite well. He plopped down and

disheveled her perfect curls with his big hands.

"You little brat," he joked. She smiled, her chin jutting out defiantly. But the pretense clouded over.

"Uncle Emmett, how was your extended honeymoon? It was not the same here without you. Is Aunt Rose here?"

He was about to answer her but he was interrupted by what sounded like the cry of a wolf or a least a really big dog. Nessie's face lit up at the call and she flew over to a window and

tossed it up with ease.

"Jacob Black, I told you I'd be out after I saw my family. So you can quit your howling," she yelled, her small body leaning out the window. She was met with a yelp and an eager whimper.

"Yes, you're family too," she admitted to the whiny pup. "Just give me a minute, 'kay?" The window was forced back down and she turned on her heels, laughing to herself. I almost came

out of hiding just to see the puppy. It was not fair that she got to have a puppy, while I couldn't even buy another goldfish.

"Aunt Rose, I'm home. Come, let me show you my trip," she called impatiently. "Uncle Jazz, where are you?"

Shyness overwhelmed me and I shrunk down even more in my corner. I hid like a field mouse in a barn with a half a dozen cats. Little did I know, this was probably one of the more

appropriate reactions I had displayed as of yet.

My Mia came prancing down the stairs gracefully, a full grin upon her porcelain face. She must have snuck passed us at some point. I could tell she was freshly showered, with not a single

grease smudge to pollute her pastel hues.

"Nessie, dear, you've grown," my Mia commented, clasping the girl's angel-like face between her hands. My Mia planted a kiss on this Nessie's forehead.

Emerging from the forbidden basement, Uncle Jasper snagged the girl from behind and twirled her around as if she was still my age. Nessie gave in and giggled good-naturedly as he sat

her down.

Nessie was a hair away from full maturity. In fact, she was more mature than most teens. For this reason, she tolerated her family treating her in such a childish manner. She felt it more

important to appease them, than to demand her rights as a new adult.

For a moment, I felt awkward, as if I was peeping into someone else's life, a life that I did not belong in. No one commented or made note of me at all.

My eyes were drawn to the open door where another woman, about my Mia's age, stood with her head rested against the door frame. She looked as if she was savoring the moment. Her

deep chestnut hair hung loosely at her shoulders in soft waves and her skin was ivory pale, maybe even paler than the rest of my family. She of course had the eyes of everyone else in

my family: vibrant gold. She was small but striking.

I do not think anyone else noticed her at first. She seemed to be content without the attention. But at that time, my Uncle Edward's eyes darted to her. He walked to her as if he was

under a spell and picked up her up cradling her head to his chest, whispering words only she was meant to hear. And then, they kissed passionately, the kind of kiss one would see in the

end of some old movie. I watched, entranced by their affection.

Next, they came in together and she greeted every one with a hug. Nessie looked happily at her reunited family. Unexpectedly her face clouded over in a scowl as if she recalled

something. Her little pout had everyone fretful.

"Where are Nana and Papa," she bemoaned sorrowfully. Alice and Popeye glanced at one another as if they had uncovered some top secret scandal.

"Well, your grandfather claims they were attending a Medical conference in St. Louis but Alice says she found Victoria's Secret receipts in your Nana's hamper," my Popeye informed with an

impish voice. "Soooo..." he prompted.

"The Island," stated Nessie with a sigh.

"Emmett, would you please stop corrupting my daughter with gossip," grumbled the woman still in Uncle Edward's loving arms.

"Momma, why do Nana and Papa not just tell us they are going on a love trip," Nessie asked boldly, as if it was something that everyone should do.

"Renesme, I do not know. Perhaps, it has something to do with the fact that when they do, your Uncle Emmett tortures them with continuous innuendos and perverted pranks in their

travel bags," she spit more at the accused than at her daughter.

They all laughed; they had such a history together, it was hard to tell what exactly they found amusing. However, I knew that it was most likely something my Popeye did.

"Awww, come on, little sis! Who doesn't enjoy a good surprise?" my Popeye boomed, nudging her forcefully. She gave him a little growl and pushed him back. Next, Popeye clouted the

small body of my new Aunt into the wall, dislodging a shelf. My Uncle Edward seemed unconcerned with such abuse. Not a moment later, she tackled him, chastising the antique wooden

floor with the buckling force of his weight.

"Speaking of surprises," interrupted Nessie in her engaging voice, "Momma said you had one for me, Aunt Rose. Where is it?" She was like a child waiting for ice cream, she could not

contain her anticipation.

I hung my little head at this. My Mia was even buying this pretty girl presents. I did not make a sound; I simply sunk lower in the corner and let silent tears fall.

My mother looked frantically around for a moment. Both my Uncle Edward and Uncle Jasper must have felt the same urgency to find Nessie's present, because they too seemed troubled.

My Popeye was too busy fending off my new Aunt to look for anything.

Five seconds into their search, my Uncles stumbled upon me. They were the best seekers in the entire world, or so I thought. My Uncle Edward looked baffled and my Uncle Jasper

distressed.

"Emmy," my Uncle Edward's voice whispered as he gathered me from behind the chair. I tried to wipe my tears on his shirt. _They remembered me_, I thought to myself. "Of course we

remembered you. You never were forgotten," he half-scolded. My Popeye looked up, now aware of what was going on.

"Darlin', why are you so upset?" Jazz questioned before another wave of tears flooded into my eyes. Embarrassed and upset, I slid down from my Uncle's arms and searched for comfort.

Her arms were cradling me instantaneously, consoling me as I wept. Her hand smoothed my hair and rubbed my shoulder. My Popeye came to assist her. A wave of tranquility overcame

me and I quieted my snuffles.

"You got her a present, but not me," I meekly admitted, trying not to let the others hear. Hurt tinted my little voice.

"Sweetling, I did not buy anyone gifts," she said looking to my Popeye, her gem-like eyes confused. My Popeye shrugged.

"Mmm-hmmmm, you told her you have a surprise," I accused with a whiny tone. Her eyes lit up. She chuckled a little and kissed my cheek.

"You ARE the surprise, Emmalie," she informed calmly, awarding me a hug. I was so relieved; she did not forget me next to the pretty girl. I hugged her back. The sadness evaporated as

quickly as it came.

After that, she let me meet my Aunt Bella and Nessie. They were both sympathetic and caring. They even invited me over to play, that was after Nessie spent most of the day with her

Jake, who to my disappointment was not a puppy. He was just a tall, long haired, half-naked boy who was almost as funny as my Popeye.

As soon as I shared that I thought he was a puppy, Nessie laughed. I was told I was just hearing things. My Mia promised me that there was no puppy or even a dog. When I asked her

about the possibility of a wolf, she stared through me with x-ray-like eyes to Jake who sat on the sofa, curled up with Nessie.

"The only wolf who gets that close to you will be a dead wolf," she promised loudly, her tone almost frightening me. I tried to see what she was glaring at, but there was nothing. I may

have imagined it, but I thought I saw Jake nod. At the time, I did not realize it but she was dead serious. My Mia was not the type to make empty threats.

That evening, when Jake had left to hang out with his 'brothers,' I went with Nessie to her house. She read me stories and pulled down toys that might amuse me. She was more of a

babysitter than a playmate, but I had fun nonetheless.

Our favorite game to play was the battle of Cane Hill. Nessie taught it to me, showing with green plastic men just what was supposed to happen. It really was a game of memorization. We

would play this game many times throughout my childhood. Different battles were learned as I grew: The Battle of Petersburg, The Battle of Pickett's Mill, The Battle of Plymouth, The Battle

of Natural Bridge, The Battle of Harpers Ferry, and so on.

Sometimes, Nessie and I got into little tiffs about what should happen next, what platoon went where. It was usually pretty one-sided. I would fight while Nessie would try to tolerate me.

She was always right, yet she never shoved it in my face. In any case, we would go get my history buff Uncle Jasper to show us.

My mother would have much preferred me to play with dolls, but both Nessie and I liked this game. The addition I added was that whatever the battle, it was right next to the Olympic

Memorial hospital, where all plastic solider men came back to life. I told Uncle Jasper we needed more nurses, since the bag of green men only came with one. He laughed and promised

that he would order more off E-bay, maybe even replace the green men with more accurate figurines.

"I bet they needed more nurses in the real Civil War, huh, Uncle Jazz?" I asked knowing he would know. I had grown to like him with time and multiple story readings.

"You bet they did, kid," he promised, ruffling my hair that I now wore lose to match Nessie's. Aunt Bella peeked around the corner to join the action.

"Nessie, you and Emma start cleaning up! The Battle of Bull Run is not going to be spewed all over my house. It's time the Confederates gave it a rest," she said tossing me in the air and

glaring at Uncle Jazz.

"Never," I shouted. Aunt Bella laughed and Uncle Jazz nodded in endorsement.

"You're going to grow up with such a skewed version of American history, thanks to some know-it-all Confederate General," she said punching my Uncle in the arm.

"Who is she talking about, Ness?" I asked innocently. I could tell Nessie knew; she just wasn't going to tell me.

"No one," she said as she swiped up the plastic men. Aunt Bella gathered me in her arms and cuddled me. Aunt Bella enjoyed holding me, so I let her. She would kiss me and tickle me. My

Popeye must have told her all my ticklish spots, because she knew them all.

"Oh, Nessie, it feels like you were this little just yesterday," she reminisced as she held me on her lap. I loved Aunt Bella's house. But soon at dusk, my Mia came to pick me up, telling me it

was almost bedtime. I only whined a little as I shuffled out the door.

"Thank them for inviting you, Emm," my mother reminded me sweetly.

"Thanks for inviting me," I repeated as directed, before I leaped off the cottage porch. Mia let me walk home instead of carrying me. She pretended to be patient as I kicked the leaves and

scuffled along. I'm sure she recognized my attempt to stall.

My room was on the second floor, directly to the left of my parent's giant L-shaped room and across the hall from Uncle Jasper and Aunt Alice's massive corridors. My room used to be

Nana's study, but Nana selflessly gave that up since I arrived. Papa Car's study and "painting room" were on this floor as well.

That night, after my bedtime story, several drinks of water, a bear hug from my Popeye, and a dozen kisses from everyone, my mother turned off my bedroom light. She was going to flick

on my night light, the one that kept me from stumbling when I got up at night, when I interrupted her.

"Mia," I sleepily called.

"Yes, doll," she said, coming back to my little bed in one stride.

"Thanks for inviting me," I said sincerely, followed by a small yawn. My eyelids were as heavy as lead; they flickered shut then open again.

"Inviting you where, sweetness?" she asked, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders as she leaned over me. In the dark her paleness almost glowed.

"Inviting me home," I clarified, slipping into dream land.

"You're welcome, baby, you're welcome," she whispered, sealing my sleep with a frosty, sweet kiss.

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**Chapter End Notes:**

**So I'm looking for at least 25 reviews. : )**

**Good and bad, I'll take it all. **

**XOXOXO AJ**


	6. Bambi's Mommy

**Author's Chapter Notes:**

**As always, the same disclaimer applies. All Twilight characters are sole property of Stephenie Meyer and I am NOT she! The plot is mine, as is my OC, Emmalie.**

**Thanks to two of the most wonderful betas in the world, you kno who you are!**

**And thanks to you all for all the great reviews! **

**Hope you enjoy!**

**This one's for you Bambi's Mommy...R.I.P.**

**

* * *

**

Popeye lugged me with him most anywhere and everywhere. Off-roading was my most beloved pastime, but I was only allowed to come on scout's honor that I would not inform Mia.

Popeye would strap me in and then go in whatever direction I pointed with my tiny finger. I always tried to take his jeep through the most muck and mud so we could partake in my second

favorite pastime when I got home, washing the car. He did not mind; he just chortled at me and my fearless sprit. It was not like he didn't know who I acquired it from.

On Monday nights I was allotted a late bedtime. This was the night I would curl up on Popeye's stone cold lap while he glued his golden eyes to the football game. The room was packed;

you practically had to commit murder for a seat and even then there were no guarantees. The rowdy crowd included my Popeye and uncles, sometimes Papa Car, Nessie's Grandpa Charlie,

the ever-present Jake, and on occasion Seth, Jake's tag-along 'brother.' Leah always declined the invitations with a sour face.

Nana did not care for the game, but she appeared to enjoy having guests over. It provided an excuse for her to give into her borderline O.C.D. cleaning habits and exercise her culinary

skills for the company. Mia professed it was a waste of food and refused to lend a hand. Instead, she fled to the_ car house_ for her _me time_, the time she so unselfishly used to pamper her

car with unnecessary attention and brood out of audible range. Aunt Alice claimed games were boring to watch; she always winked and said "she would check the score later." As an

alternative activity, she set out on her mission to beautify the world, starting with our uncooperative, already beautiful family.

My Aunt Bella watched just to stay with my Uncle Edward and to avoid becoming a candidate for Aunt Alice's play time. Thanks to the lack of seats, Aunt Bella too, was forced to sitting on a

lap, but she and my uncle made do, not fussing at all. Usually by halftime, Aunt Alice would try to recruit Aunt Bella for some girly task. Nessie would watch as well, Jake and she sitting

innocently adjacent to one another on the floor. She explained the rules of the game, since my uncles and Popeye were often too distracted to translate play by play. I learned fast.

Eventually the tradition was consistent, formed in stone.

"Popeye, which team is yours?" I would question, after I watched my father and uncles enthralled in the game for a few minutes. I did not see what was that wonderful about it, but if they

liked it, so did I!

"The blue one," he mumbled, glimpsing down at me, masking his annoyance. Apparently, six-year-olds were not the 'in thing' to bring to football night; but he never asked me to leave. His

attention was drawn back to the mammoth flat screen as if pulled by some polar force. I waited until he felt guilty and asked me.

"Your team?" He always was trying not to smile his big, boyish grin. Predictable as I was, it was not as if he needed to ask, I always told him the opposing team whoever, whatever, they

were. He asked just to make me feel significant.

"The yellow and black team," I would mumble, confidently turning my eyes back to the game, ignoring him in a mirrored manner. He would just chuckle. The competition was on.

"You're laughing now, Popeye, but wait until my team whoops your team's sorry butt." Then after a while I celebrated any small victory. "Too bad your punter just fumbled." Or... "My

linebacker just socked your guy." I was a natural born trash talker. Eventually, after he got fed up with my bashing, he would bet against me.

"Alright, little missy, if my team wins the playoffs, you have to wash out your trash talking mouth out with soap," he said in his jocular voice, tickling me into the agreement. At first I think it

was a casual proposition, not a full out wager. But my eyes gleamed with mischief. He knew then that I would do it; if the bet involved eating worms, I would not have disappointed. His

smile grew bigger than the Cheshire cat's.

"...And if my team wins you have to come to my tea party tomorrow dressed as Little Miss Muffin," I said with an equally devious smile. He looked at me with his eager sorrel eyes, and

then shook on it.

"Deal! But it's Muffet, Emm, not Muffin," he corrected, flicking my nose lightheartedly. I rolled my green eyes, as if I were ten years older than I really was. Didn't he know? I didn't care who

came to my tea parties. As long as I had someone slightly livelier than my stuff bear Joey or my Susie doll, with the eyes that never stayed open, I was content.

Occasionally, I sucked on soap, but I was unruffled. To prove that it did not bother me, I went as far as to blow sudsy spit bubbles in his face. Future wagers involved me completing

pranks, thought up by none other than the king of shenanigans. That was just when I lost; other times I got what I wanted: Lion King On Ice; Pretty, Pretty Princess play time; or an

off-roading trip to the place of my choice - within reason. We did not always bet the same thing, but both off us always followed through. Pride was a family trait, gambling a learned

behavior.

Uncle Jazz and Uncle Edward nicknamed it the_ Post Game Show_. Seth and Jake would stick around, but I think they would have stayed anyways, at least until they had cleaned out our

kitchen. They were weird grown-ups but always a captive audience, laughing hysterically. Had my Mia been aware of our little bets, she would have broken it up. Soap was not on the list

of organic things that were allowed to cross the threshold of my mouth.

The _list_ was a twisted and evil thing. Most everyone in my house hated it. At six years old I had it memorized: no anti-biotics, no pesticides, nothing with excessive food dyes or unnatural

amounts of salt, no artificial sweateners or bleached starches, no trans-fats or MSG. In Mia's opinion, "Happy-meal" was a curse word. The woman even censured health store products

when she shopped in Seattle. For someone who did not eat, she sure was picky. It mattered not that the boxed claimed it was for kids, once she had passed her divine judgment, she

would not be persuaded. Aunt Bella argued it was an awfully extreme. So not to deprive me, she kept my secret stash well supplied with Coco Puffs, a cereal my Mia claimed was tiny toxic

balls coated in deadly artificial chocolate. Mia would have had a seizure if she realized that most everyone defied her and her silly list.

Each meal, I ate at the granite bar in the giant, under-used kitchen. All and sundry felt as if they had to watch me eat, like I might die of loneliness without them. It was an unconventional

family dinner time, but it took me a while to catch on to this. Since I was pretty sheltered, I just thought that the reason that I ate was because I was a child. Children ate, while adults

didn't. Often times when Jake was over, he would eat with me. I would sit there and giggle. To me it was the most amusing thing in the world that he ate and he was a grown-up. In my

mind, he was like a middle-aged man stealing baby bottles.

Ness would cackle too. She would sit next to me and dotingly across from him.

"Jake, you're not a baby or a kid," I would try to tell him, laughing while he inhaled three entire boxes of whole wheat mac and cheese.

"Can't you eat back at the pound, mutt, and stop making her laugh! She has barely touched her food," my Mia would snap in her alkaline manner. Nessie would devotedly serve him more,

sending me into more fits of giggles. Since my mother rarely cooked, Uncle Edward, Aunt Bella, and Nana Esme were my chefs of preference. Nessie as well was becoming a decent cook,

although she almost burnt down the house on several occasions. My Uncle alleged that her arson talents proved that Ness had inherited her mother's trouble magnet qualities.

Even though she looked more than twice my age, Ness was only a few years older than me. Because of her maturity and her rapid growth, she looked far from her true age. She was a

grown-up in every sense of the word, yet she still played with me just like an older sister or cousin should. It was an unbecoming task for her, yet she did it for my enjoyment alone.

My perspective of her was not very accurate. Nessie was different, but I did not see it that way. It was not that Nessie grew fast; it was me who grew slow. It was not that she was

inhumanly intelligent; it was that I was stupid. My little mind could not comprehend the gaps I saw between her and me. She was perfect. I was like a fake Prada purse on Fifth-Avenue; I

was so convinced that I was inferior. Jealousy turned me tart. When I could take no more, I confided my notions to my Mia.

"Mia," I asked one day, setting down my crayon and giving my cramped hand a break from scribbling my family portrait. "Why is Nessie so much bigger than me?"

"Because she is older, sweetling. You know that," she replied in a monotone voice. She was preoccupied by the flickering pages of the Auto magazine, _Car Mechanics_. All the while, her

nimble fingers circled her Christmas selections for 'Santa.' She was halfway paying attention to me, so I pressed on.

"Am I like Wilbur?" I asked in my peppy voice. She stopped, so still, it looked like I froze her.

"Wilbur who, honey?" she asked, furrowing her porcelain brow in perplexity. The corner of her magazine page was folded over to hold her place. She tossed her hair over her shoulder,

golden tresses that made the sun in all its brilliance green-eyed. She pulled up a stool and dutifully assumed her attentive mother role.

"You know, Mia, the one who is friends with the spider," I reminded in my motherly imitating voice.

"Oh, from _Charlotte's Web_," she recalled aloud, referring to one of the many books my Aunt Bella had given to me. I nodded and smiled at her. She cocked her head at me, waiting to see

where this was going.

"Yes. Am I...a... a... rut..." I said searching for the proper word.

"A runt?" she asked, half horrified by my question. Her regal posture slumped for an instant before she regained her composure.

"That is the word," I confirmed, praising her. She still did not seem excessively celebratory.

"Oh, no, Emmalie! Why would you think such a thing?" she scolded. She was really offended, but I did not understand why. I let my eyes plunge back to my drawing, in shame. Even in my

scribbled depiction, one could see my flawed perception.

"'Cause I am too small and you make me eat a whole lot, three times every day," I explained, my glossy eyes huge and my miniature hands waving dramatically. The corners of her mouth

threatened to pull into a smirk.

"You are just the perfect size, Emmalie. I was the exact same size I was when I was six," she said looking at me, giving in and smiling with her whole pretty face. I was very happy to hear this, so I reflected her smile, picked up my pink crayon, and diligently scribbled on. But then it occurred to me.

"Mia, were you ugly then too," I asked, hoping she would answer yes. But she did not. Instead she had me wrapped up in her cold, cradling arms before I could blink. She shook me

slightly.

"Emmy, you are not a runt, you are not too small, and you are not ugly!" she corrected in one breath before sighing a chilly breath on my shoulder. "Do I need to send you to bed early?"

"Would that make me..." but the callous look in her shimmering eyes told me not to finish.

"Oh, my baby, you are perfect. Please do not think that way! It makes my heart sad," she said in her depressing song-like voice, the pleading voice of an angel. She had adapted to using

some of my phrases.

"I'm sorry, Mia. I'll stop and read the 'Aunt Alice in the Mirror' story," I proposed, knowing how proud she was of my reading. She nodded stiffly and sat me down, then went to pick up her

phone to call my Popeye. _She's probably going to tell him how I hurt her heart and how he has to come home and kiss it better_, I rationalized. He did do that a lot.

My sad little perception of myself was far from the reality. In truth, I was a very lovely girl, with thick, sandy locks and big emerald green eyes, bordered in ebony lashes. I was dainty but

not overly thin, high cheekbones and a small nose. My olive skin bronzed easily in the patchy Washington sunlight, rarely burning. In addition to my appearance, I was incredibly bright. I

tried my best to remember everything that Papa Car would tell me. Yet sometimes in one day, I think my little brain went into overload.

I concluded early on in my life that I would never be as smart as any of them. Furthermore, no matter what I would do, dress up in Mia's clothing and powder my face white, I did not look

like her, I never would. It was like that segregating song on Sesame Street, "One of these things is not like the others. One of these things is not quite the same." I really hated that song!

I think, I was six-ish when realized that my family was...well, a little atypical. The tendency I naturally leaned towards was not purposely willful, but curious. My female family members

abandoned me at night sometimes so I would not know and feel left out. But I did know.

On a particular November night, I planned to follow them. Popeye was supposed to be watching me, but he just thought I was asleep. I waited until I heard his stomp-like steps plod up

the stairs to the forbidden study, Uncle Edward's quick steps trailing behind him. I heard Uncle Edward mumble something about_ last time he was helping Jasper hack_ and _Alice's credit report,_

but I didn't pay attention.

To my relief, my slippers muffled my footsteps and I went unnoticed. Out the kitchen door I strayed, into the shadows of the misty forest. I followed them but right away my little legs could

not keep up. I ventured forth for about an hour, deep into the maze of pines they vanished behind.

They were making a ton of noise in the forest; I think that was why they could not hear me. I went past the little bubbling brook that weaved its way through the forest and on into

obscurity. Hopelessly disoriented, I softly cried in the dark. I was trembling in the night as I trudged on. My pink cotton-candy slippers were muddy and soaked. The air remained so cold, it

hurt to breathe.

Sneaking out was one of those things that I knew was bad as soon as I did it. The forest was a big out of bonds area. Not to mention, I was not to depart from my bed at night, and I was

never allowed to leave the house without permission.

I was about to resort to screaming for help, when I saw my Mia's pale hair flash in front of my eyes, fast as always. Happily, I ran in that direction and peered down a gorge where I had

seen her run.

And then I saw it, motionless, save for an occasional twitch. Dead in her hands, the blood gashed from a small crescent shaped wound. On her perfect lips dripped the crimson truth. The

shriek that came from my mouth startled even me.

Mia saw me, but there was nothing she could do, no explanation. I'm sure she could see my trembling from deep in the gorge. She knelt, helplessly trapped, while tears trailed down my

frozen cheeks. I could tell she wanted to hold me, to wipe them away, but she refused to force herself on me. With poise she slowly rose to her feet, her slaughter in front of her. She

started to come towards me, worry glowing in her saffron eyes, but I fell backwards at her approach. To the left Aunt Bella approached like a lioness, Aunt Alice prowling at her side. They

moved without noise. I knew when I saw them together that my Mia was not alone in her sin. My Aunts were half whispering, half yelling at each other.

"Told you I heard a human," scoffed my Aunt Bella in her know-it-all voice. Aunt Alice was quick to find an excuse.

"She sounded like a raccoon," maintained my Aunt Alice, her perky voice too defensive. My Mia shot her an accusing glare.

"Oh, come on, Alice! I know I'm newer to this than you, but I'm no amateur. A child and a raccoon sound nothing alike," Bella whispered huffily. Bella's eyes narrowed at her sister,

analyzing her. Alice shifted under the scrutiny of her best friend, mumbling.

"Both of you shut up!" screamed my Mia, her tenor low and menacing. Then she narrowed in her vengeance on Aunt Alice. "I suppose you have some lame, half-ass excuse for not seeing

this one, Alice? I would really love to hear it sometime, because I know you would not have just let this happen without warning me." Alice crossed her arms and pouted, maintaining her

right to be silent. "...Because if you did that, you _know_ I what I would do to a certain loved one." Alice's eyes widened to a saucer-like size and her pout sparked into a blazing glower.

"Are you threatening my Jasper?" Screamed my aunt in an infrequent fit of rage. She relocated to a looming distance from my Mia.

"Don't be dense, Alice! I'm talking about the Porsche," my Mia spat, dropping the scary-older-sister act for a moment. Alice and Mia began to exchange whispered threats and death glares.

Aunt Bella settled down on a log, kicked up her feet, and sighed. Apparently, she was aware that fights like this could go on for infinity. Behind me Nessie's sweet voice pulled my eyes from

the upheaval.

"Oh, Emmalie, why did you have to follow us?" she asked as she knelt. I whimpered and crawled toward a tree, curling up, not taking my eyes off of the crime scene below. The two

deer-murders in the gorge stopped fighting, reminded of my presence. They did not come any closer; the one time my Mia moved toward me, I let out a sob. She gave up with a sigh, her

shoulders sinking from their rigid state.

"Emmmmmeeeeettttt," she called with clear crystal intonation. She said it with arid emotion, the way you called to someone upstairs when you wanted them to come down. It was a one

word request.

I listened to her perfect voice echo, standing up waiting for my Popeye's rescue. He would make me feel better.

In an instant he was there, his eyes locking on me and then looking toward my mother. Her sad eyes must have told all because he never said a word. He simply stalked over to me and

gave my pajama seat a few hearty smacks before he wrapped me in his bear hug. And then he rubbed my back as I cried on the high-speed hike home. My only words were, "BAMBI'S

MOMMY!" to which I cried over and over again. He was livid, but not at me - at my Mia, the deer, Aunt Alice and himself, but not me.

He grumbled a great deal, practically throwing me to Jasper as soon as he walked in the door. He did not even give his brother an explanation. As Popeye calmed himself down, Jasper

tried to wipe my tears with tissues. He did not do a very good job. He treated the tears as if they were some type of hazardous matter, throwing away a tissue as soon as it touched my

face. After he used two dozen tissues, he let out tremor of disgust, like some big sissy. He had a thing against bodily fluids.

Luckily, Nana Esme and Papa Car were arriving home from a charity banquet at the hospital. In the same time frame, my Uncle Edward decided to come down stairs to see why I was

screeching so loud. I am sure he was confused by my internal mourning of the Disney deer. I rejected artificial waves of comfort, allowing my shoulders to shake with little sobs.

"What in heaven's name is wrong?" Nana Esme asked, an array of worry on her heart shaped face. As soon as Papa Car took off her coat to hang it up for her, she dashed to Jasper's side

and cupped my already frozen face in her equally frozen hands.

"Baaaammmmbiiiiii'ssssss Mommmmmmmy," I cried in turmoil. Esme looked to Jasper for an explanation. At the same time, she notice the pacing, grumbling Emmett.

"She saw Rose in the forest," stated my all knowing Uncle Edward. Nana looked alarmed but Papa Car just nodded. He did not look worried in the least; telling the truth was what he did

best. I happened to be the kind of kid that wanted to know the truth. He dispensed his briefcase on Nana's Pembroke tea table and motioned toward the couch. He sat down and

explained, while uncomfortable Jasper continued to hold me.

Papa Car said that for a young child, I took it all very well. I seemed to understand. Popeye seemed glad that his dad was telling me this and not him. After I calmed down, so did he. When

Papa Car finished, he asked me if I understood. I paraphrased what I learned for him.

"So you're all like mosquitoes?" I asked waiting for verification. "You suck on the juices but not the rest." My newly muted family all dissected me for a moment with their eyes. I took a fact

that most people considered monstrous and summed it up in the most composed and simplistic way: oversized parasites. Only Papa Car acknowledged me, encouraging more questions.

"Just animal juices, right?" I asked meekly, glancing about. Even my Nana wore a blank look on her alabaster face.

"Right my love, blood," affirmed my grandfather. Everyone else was still speechless. My Popeye was now seated; my questions making me shift in unease. He was waiting for me to call him

a monster.

"If you are, umm, vamp-pires," I started stumbling on the new word. "What am I?"

"You're human, Emma," thundered my Popeye impatiently, before Papa Car could choke out a more gentle response. Papa Car sent him one of his looks. Nana smacked him in the back of

the head. I kept going.

"Do you really never sleep or eat good stuff, like cookies?" I asked again. I got a nod from the room. "And you stay the same? No birthdays or nothing?"

Nana smiled and gave me a little shrug. I thought for a while and went back to one of the first things Papa Car told me.

"Are Bambi and his mommy really fake?" I still was in disbelief over that small reality. Of all the things they were telling me, this one was truly disturbing.

"Yes, he is a fictional character, like most, if not all of your cartoons." Papa Car gave his text book retort without falter. My Popeye laughed at the unexpected turn in conversation. His

laugh seemed to douse out some of the scorching tension. I asked several more questions, but in truth I did not know everything Vampire in that one night.

By the time I had finished, everyone was back in one our large open family room. My Mia and aunts and my sweet Nessie all sat at a distance on the sofa, as if they were on trial. Papa Car

looked at me with his muddy warm eyes and smiled. This night made the list of top ten most awkward family meetings.

"Are there any more questions? Things that you unsure of, my little Thumbelina," he asked me. I thought for a moment then looked around the room.

"Ummmmmm... Am I going to have to stand in the corner?" I asked in an anxious whisper. My Popeye stared, his eyes piercing. He looked for a long time like he might have been mad at my

question, like I should not have even asked.

"Is that all you are worried about?" he asked, shaking his head at me. But I just looked at him my eyes questioning him.

"No, Emmalie, you're not," he promised with an outtake of breath. I nodded, then looked around again and asked my Mia. I was still a little uncomfortable with being able to ask everything

and anything.

"Ummmmmm, does blood make you pretty?"

"No, Emmalie," my Mia spit back sharply hoping to deter any notions. She was still kind of grumpy.

"Does blood taste good?" I asked with my eyes slightly narrowed.

"Emma," said my mother in a tone that meant stop now. I knew her different tones. Right now she looked like she wanted to escape. I ignored the cue and recalled the deer, who got

more than just an itchy bite mark.

"When the deer is dead, do you put it in a shoe box, bury it, and sing songs?" I asked quietly. Everyone looked like a mixture between confused and guilty. My Popeye coughed, or maybe

it was a laugh made to sound like a cough. No one answered me for a minute and I started to give them my judgmental glare, folding my arms and clicking my tongue like Nana often did.

Jasper caved.

"Yes, of course we do," he said convincingly, the rest of family quickly played along.

"Every time?"

"Yep!"

"Yeah, we even have an open casket viewing before the service. We invite their deer relatives and neighbors to sing Amazing Grace with us," relished my sarcastic father. Mia rolled her

eyes. It was not as if I was ever going to be able to call them on their bluff. I had a feeling they were lying so I asked more questions.

"Where do you find big enough shoe boxes?" I asked, doing the reasoning in my head. Everyone looked to my Mia, who kicked Jasper in the shin then smiled sweetly to me. I looked back

and forth between them suspiciously.

"Jasper makes them, sweetheart. I'm sure he will show you sometime," she said giving him a wicked smile. He bared his teeth at her snide offer but nodded to me. Uncle Edward seemed

to think it was funny but my Aunt Bella lightly smacked away any remaining amusement.

"Is there anything else you would like to ask, comment upon and-or request before you go back to bed, sweetness?" she asked in a condescending tone, pushing my hair out of my face,

kneeling in front of me. She was sick of all of this, but I was not. I pondered for a moment before I shared.

"I'm done with vegetables," I declared. This seemed like an ideal time to bring this up. It was not fair that I had to eat things like celery, while they only ate what they wanted. "If you

don't follow the food pyramid rules, Mia. I am not going to either!" I was about to demand my rights to sugary cereal when she interrupted.

"Let me rephrase my prior statement. Are there any reasonable requests?" she growled in agony.

"I'm serious, Mia. No more green stuff. You don't eat variety and I'm not going to either," I said, looking to my Popeye for support. But the plan backfired when he thought of some

ludicrous excuse. His eyes got big and his voice overly animated. He took it to the point where most anyone could tell he was lying or at least exaggerating.

"Emma, we eat variety. We hunt several species of elk, moose, bears, lions..."

"Wolves?" I asked hopefully. Everyone was quite, save for Aunt Bella and Ness, who seemed sickened and appalled by even the suggestion. They let out identical gasps.

"No, Emma, most unfortunately in this house we do not eat wolves," my Mia admitted, looking at Papa Car as if he were the enemy. He raised his eyebrows, daring her to expand.

"Too bad," I said with a sigh, "we have a festation of those."

"You mean infestation?" asked Aunt Alice in her sweet lilting voice. Everyone else looked at me sheepishly.

"Yeah, same difference. The point is there are a lot of them. They are very big and they run around our house every single night, around and around and around. I can see them from my

window!" I shared this distressing news, yet none of them seemed too stunned. It was like they already knew. Perhaps they did not understand. I rallied on, giving them the sad but

alarming truth. I even stood up on the couch to petition. Jasper scooted over allowing me to my makeshift platform. "If we don't call the terminator, they may start trying to blow down our

house or eat our Nana. This is big, Mia! Why can't you just eat them instead of the deer?" Mia seemed proud of my little petition but she still did not answer me.

"Ask Papa Car. I keep saying the same thing about the blasted fleabags but no one listens to me," she directed with a roll of her golden eyes.

Nana made that click of her tongue and gave my Mia a nudge. She ignored her, however. Popeye nudged her harder until she turned her eyes to the window, where Nessie stood like an

outcast, hurt and rejected. She leaned against the wall tracing doodles on the foggy windowpane.

"When are you going to learn, Rose? Are you going to wait until you've hurt everyone before you shut your fat mouth?" Uncle Edward growled aggressively. My Mia seemed to shrink half a

foot at the reprimand. Often times she just blew off anything my uncle said, but this was different.

"Edward!" yelled my Aunt Bella in disbelief, holding him back. She tried to calm him down but he refused. My Aunt Alice rushed over to comfort her sniffling niece, followed by my Aunt Bella,

who reluctantly released her irate husband. I jumped to my Mia, hugging her while my father continued the reproof.

"Smooth, Rose. Real smooth," he groused. She gasped, he rarely told her off. I made a mean face at him, not understanding what was going on.

"I'll love you even if you do eat the wolves, Mia," I whispered in her ear. She smiled weakly, but turned her attention back to Nessie.

My Uncle Jasper sat on the couch tapping his foot, very distracted with everything going on. Uncle Edward looked as though he was going to add even more variety to his diet, Rose-juices.

Hurt covered my Nana's beautiful face. She really hated fighting and could only take it so long. Instead of remaining, she simply stomped upstairs and slammed the door when she reached

her room.

"ENOUGH! It stops here," declared Papa Car, looking at Rose and Edward. "Edward, you are right and she knows it. There is no need to press your point. Rose, you can make whatever

genuine apologies you feel led to make. I would suggest you start with your niece. After that, there is a six-year-old who needs sleep." He looked at my Popeye. "Wolves and what not can

wait for another discussion, at another time." Most everyone nodded in agreement.

"But I still have questions!" I protested in a whine as Popeye scooped me up to take me to bed for the second time that night. My Popeye was losing patience as I thrashed about. Smiling,

Papa Car kissed my forehead, trying to get me to stop struggling.

"I'm sure you do. But tonight, I have no more answers. It is time for bed," he said pinching my cheek playfully. Popeye propelled my Mia gently towards Nessie, before we turned to face my

impending doom, the ever-dreaded bedtime. We only got half way up the stairs.

"But how can I be a vampire? I want to be like you!" I yelled so everyone could hear. My words must have freaked him out enough that he loosened his grip, permitting me to squirm free

and scurry back down the steps. My Mia released Nessie from the hug she was giving her and looked at me petrified. I stood on the bottom step taking in the scared faces. The general

reaction was identical to what I had received a week prior when I had added a curse word to my ever blooming vocabulary. A staggered panic besieged the room as if I had just opened a

forbidden box, one they had taped up and hidden away a long time ago. My Mia broke the silence her voice still harsh.

"Emmalie, we can finish this conversation when you are older," she said with sternness, her tone was still melodious. She was still petting Nessie, who now looked like she had new

reservations. Aunt Alice looked dazed for a brief moment then she shook it off.

"Or we could just finish it now," I suggested sourly with a shrug.

"EMMALIE ALICE MARIE, do you really wish to keep this up?" warned my Popeye from behind me. I had no intention of irking him further so I stopped, but not before silently vowing to ask

again in the morning.

"No, sir, I'll stop," I pledged in a quiet voice, _for now anyways,_ I silently added. At the time I was not sure why, but all of a sudden my Uncle Edward's attitude shifted, like a change in the

frigid Pacific tides. He tossed his head back in laughter and looked at my Mia roguishly, his eyes warm with victory.

"Finally, Rose you have someone who will give you some of the strife you deserve," he mumbled as he walked passed her and hugged his Nessie, nuzzling her head to her chest.

He may have not said it if he only knew the truth he spoke. I glanced over my shoulder as I trudged up the stairs. For once my Mia did not fight him. Maybe, she knew he was right.

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**Chapter End Notes:**

**Review please**


	7. Spilled Soy and Bad Blood

**Author's Chapter Notes:**

**The same declaimer applies; all Twilight characters are sole property of Stephenie Myer and I am not she.**

**Also, I do not want to pressure you to review but if in fact you have something you'd like to share, please do so. It really makes my day and makes writing so much easier.**

**

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Things started to piece together like puzzle. Uncanny occurrences that had previously slipped into oblivion now seemed to be blaringly obvious: Nana lifting the couch to sweep beneath it,

the metal-bending abilities exhibited by Mia when she was ticked, the fast talking my Uncles used when they wanted to keep me out of the loop, the homeruns that could put the pros to

shame. Apparently, I did not watch enough TV. Perhaps, other children would have keyed into it earlier but for me it was the norm. Couldn't every one's mom lift cars? Didn't all dads uproot

trees like weeds? The rapid movements, the super hearing, the superman strength, it was all vampire stuff.

Mia found it liberating to be able to tell me why I was different. She stressed that I was normal, they were not. After several months, Popeye sullenly proposed that I play with other kids.

But when Nessie offered to take me to play with Jake's cousins, both my Mia and Popeye were less than enthusiastic to say the least.

Much to Mia's dismay, the werewolf discussion went a hell of a lot better than the vampire discussion. I danced around for minutes when I understood that the trio, who loitered at our

house almost endlessly, was the same three wolves who stalked it. This was a hundred times better than a puppy in my eyes!

The next time Jake came through our front door, I about plowed him down with my hug. Nessie beamed, glad that I accepted him so sincerely. Reluctance and skepticism shrouded him as

he looked to her for an explanation for the newborn affection, but I supplied the answer.

"Jake, I'm so happy you are a good wolf and not the kind that will eat Nana or huff down our house," I confessed, still glued to him. My Mia made a faint gagging noise from the other side

of the room, but it was covered by the roaring laughter of Ness and Jake. Jake lifted me up by my ankles, holding me upside down while pretending to nimble on my tummy. My playful

shrieking made Mia's attentive state double. She did not mind when my Popeye and I roughhoused, but Jake was an entirely different matter. She flicked on the TV to provide

self-distraction.

Mia and Popeye laid down some werewolf guidelines. They were forbidden to shift in front of me, unless a parental figure was present. After being warned and sworn to the guidelines,

Leah, Seth, and Jake were declared tolerable werewolf relations. Leah's interactions, however, were kept to a bare minimum, but Mia did grudgingly allow me to invite her to my

extravagant, but intimate, seventh birthday party.

As for the rest of the canine mutants, they all were to be ignored and avoided, under threat of instant death.

Despite their prejudices, my parents agreed to a trial play date, on the contingency that Jake be the only one of his kind around and Nessie be a vigilant monitor. Ness was the only Cullen

welcomed on Quileute land. She was our go-between, an ambassador of sorts. Ulterior motivation for the consent was based in the fact that Mia wanted to let Ness know that she was

trusted, since this was her idea.

It was misting the day I visited at the South Side Park, a muddy recreational area with outdated, splinter-causing playground equipment. I was so apprehensive; Nessie had to push me

forward. She and Jake watched me from a bench, sitting closer to each other than they would have ever dared to do at our house. While I did not fit in with my family, I definitely did not fit

in with human children. I talked differently; my speech had taken a 180 since I had become a Cullen. I now talked with etiquette uncommon for my age. I walked differently, an imitation of

my poised female role models. I even played differently, too rough for most girls, a product of wrestling with my Popeye. After a short time, I came back to Ness and asked to go home.

"What's the big rush, Goldilocks?" Jake asked in his husky, bantering voice. I could tell that he was not happy with the idea of being uprooted from his snuggling time with Nessie. But

Nessie nodded and got up.

"It's just that the game is on at one and I don't want to miss kick off," I said shrugging my little kid shoulders. "You're coming over, right?" Jake flashed his big goofy grin and looked me

over. I did not like that he ignored my invitation.

"You sure are one strange little kid," he said naively. Nessie grew instantly protective and smacked his arm.

"Let's go, Emmy," she said haughtily, shaking her head at her foolish beau. I took her hand and let her tow me to the car. He watched us walk off, clueless to what had perturbed her.

She helped me buckle into the back seat, after removing my mud-covered shoes. Next, she climbed in behind the wheel, but instead of the car roaring to life, I heard her soft sigh.

"Can you drive slowly so SHE doesn't think that I did not try," I asked sincerely. She was a fast driver like everyone else in our family. Her flashy car was passed down from her mother's

human days. The thing was a tank. Ness drove it resentfully on back roads only, but when her parents were out of town she secretively drove the Vanquish or traveled by bike. Not that

they were any less showy, just a lot more fun.

"No one will think..."

"Nessie, please just lie to her," I encouraged.

"You made friends with Claire and she's only a few years older than you," she countered, sounding more and more like a mother.

"And you!" I huffed, reminding her she was not so old. It was true; I had just turned seven and Nessie was eight and a-half, not that the half matters when you're completely full grown.

Claire was actually two years older than Nessie, but she acted more like my age.

"Emmalie," she said with an exasperated hiss which made her sound like her father.

"Nessie, please, you can't understand because you're perfect. Just tell my Mia I had a great time and made friends," I proposed squarely. I think she could see my hurt. Nessie was overly

pensive for a moment before she spoke.

"Emmalie, you know that I am your friend and always will be," she said her voice so sincere and sweet, like a lone violinist. I stared at her for a moment; I was still sitting in my booster

seat due to Washington state law and she was _old enough _to drive where she pleased. It was hard to believe. Years later, I would see that she really meant it and I appreciated her for

telling me so. But at the moment, all I wanted to do was kick the back of her nice leather seat - which I did.

Before we left, Ness and Jake shared in a kissy-face make up, one in which he leaned through the car window and tried to suck the life out of her. _Forget kick off_, I thought_, we'll be lucky if _

_we get home before the Superbowl game_. The lip-locked mushiness seemed never-ending. No matter how many times I kicked the seat, they just did not stop. Eventually, I succeeded in

sabotaging the moment by singing an annoying song my Popeye taught me.

Later that afternoon, we had what I like to refer to as my 'premature mid life crisis.' I was sulky, a truth that did not go unobserved under Mia's watchful gaze. My team was down by 14,

Nessie and Jake had ditched for some sappy date night, and Mia was being overly annoying. On top of all that, my head had developed a pounding pulse while my breathing felt a little

strained. I was getting sick again.

"Emmalie, I thought you said you finished your milk," she called from the kitchen area. Her French-tipped finger pointed to the full glass of soy milk on the midnight black granite counter.

She beckoned me from the game and back to the kitchen with her same finger. I reluctantly dallied over to her side. I was so busted.

"Oh," I said, nodding at it and thinking fast, "that was Jake's glass." I picked it up and was about to dump it in the stainless steel sink when it disappeared from my hand and appeared in

hers. "It's Jake's!" I insisted again. But her eyes narrowed at the falsehood and she planted a hand on her hip. I could hear the guys shouting from the other side of the open room and

turned to glance at the TV.

"That's a lie. Drink it now. It is good for you," she said menacingly, setting it back in its original location. Huffily, I went over and climbed up on the bar stool. She was so unfair. I didn't

make a big deal about what she drank; at the very least she could return the favor

"Yeah, yeah, if it's so good, why don't you drink it?" I mumbled as she exited the room. But she swung around faster than a dancer doing a pirouette and glared. Super hearing had me

busted again.

"Excuse me," she demanded, her voice low, her eyes just daring me to account for the statement. I just glared darts at the milk. "After you finish that and the game is over, you can head

upstairs for a nap," she said coldly, walking over to me. She sat down next to me as if to say 'and I am not going anywhere until it's gone.'

No one else had to drink milk, take naps, and play with kids they didn't know all in one day. So I did what every other kid in the world does. I spilled the milk. 'Dumped it' would be the

more appropriate choice of words. Right on top of her perfectly parted golden hair. Her shriek was so loud it almost shattered the empty crystal glass. I quickly slid down from the bar stool

and ran for cover, up the stairs to higher ground, a battle tactic Uncle Jazz had taught me. Cover came in the form of Alice who was just coming from her closet haven to meet me in my

escape. She had an endearing little smirk plastered on her face as she plucked me up.

"You've got guts, kid," she admitted in low whisper. I already was regretting what I did.

"Emmmmmeetttt," I heard my Mia call, her voice distressed.

"What is it, babe?" he replied calmly out of habit, his attention still on the TV. He was very good at ignoring her melodramatics; it was one of the things that kept them balanced. She was

high-strung; he was down to earth. This was the balance that allowed them to coexist.

"You NEED to deal with YOUR daughter," she hissed severely.

"Uhhh, babe, the game is kind of on, can this wait?" he asked not too staggered by her screaming.

"Emmmmmmmetttttt, get your ass in here," she shrieked. I heard him grumble and then her voice raised an octave, yelling to him. Alice just held me and we waited together at the top of

the steps.

"Jesus Christ, Rose! I'll deal with her. Cool down, you're going to make the milk go sour," he chuckled to himself as he climbed the stairs. My scent and heart beat were always a dead

giveaway; I could never hide for long. He took me from Alice's arms and kept walking to my room. "Jezze, Emm could you at least wait till half time to throw fits? You're making me miss the

game."

"Emmett McCarty Cullen," my mother rebuked from down stairs. "You are supposed to scold her for her misbehavior, not ask her to re-schedule!"

My Popeye laughed and then gave me the talk, followed by the heartless sentence.

I did not have to drink the milk but I did go to bed at two thirty in the afternoon, no football game. All day I stayed in my bedroom, screaming and crying. But I was ignored.

"I hate being human! I hate it! I hate it! I hate it!" I yelled knowing they could all hear me. It was fortunate that our neighbors did not live within earshot, because I'm certain this was out

of the usual run of things for a child to shout.

After I had calmed down, I played with my GI Joes and doll house, a peculiar combination of playthings. At some point I did fall to sleep, exhausted from the day.

At seven in the evening, my Mia jostled me from my sleep and offered me a sandwich and stupid glass of milk. Her hair was now washed and smelled like lilac and vanilla again. This time I

drank the milk, but she and I were not on speaking terms quite yet.

Several hours later, my Popeye came to tell me goodnight and to smother out my reading light, like some spellbound reading-Nazi tutored to suck away fun. He took my little desk lamp and

placed it on an unnaturally high shelf.

"Sorry, your Mia says no books tonight. I really do not know why you like them anyways," he said looking at my well-stocked cabinet of youth classics and winking. "I was thinking we could

rip out all those stupid book shelves and put in a foosball table." He could tease me even in the serious moments. He had a type of faux sternness. When he'd seen Mia with milk in her

hair, his voice had sounded as if he was going to roll over laughing. "Stay in bed. No coming into our room tonight. Kay, babe?"

Mia never came in to say good night, so I cried softly on my silk pillow and then resorted to sobbing. At some point that night, I felt pain in my ribs and my sobbing became a deep cough.

When I coughed a lot, sometimes it scared me because I was unable to breathe. I had gotten sick a few times before. Papa Car thought it all to be related to allergies. But this was the

worst as of yet.

I was determined not to bother my parents this night, not after already upsetting them. So I went to find Papa Car, tiptoeing across the ancient wooden floor, which creaked in defiance.

"Papa Car," I said peeking into his office, "I am so sad that I made myself ill." He chuckled and then opened the door and picked me up. I was a petite 7 year old, 20th percentile in height

and weight. Everyone was always holding me.

"What hurts, my love?" he asked, not bothered by my interrupting him.

"Well, my soul and my throat and my head," I admitted sadly. He smiled for a second more and then studied me carefully with his wise face on. He appeared a little concerned. Then he

leaned over and smelled me, his Greek noise wrinkling a little.

Alice and Nessie once told me that I smelled weird. Nessie said I smelled sour. Alice claimed it was more of a fermented smell. My Popeye smelled it too. Sometimes, I would see him sniff

and get disorientated; the kind of disorientation one would get after taking a sip of something and were shocked when it was not what was expected.

Papa Car went into the other room and returned with my child-size pea coat. It was a coat that Alice got me for my half birthday; Alice was always looking for reason to shop. He quickly

buttoned it up over my cotton nightgown and swiped me up not saying a word about where we were going yet. I was expecting him to head toward the front door but instead he

ascended up the stairs to my parent's room. He knocked then spoke not waiting.

"Rose, Emmalie awoke with a slight cough. I am going to take her to the office for a little exam," he explained quietly.

He turned to walk away but the door flew open and there she was, wrapped in a sheet like some Greek goddess in a silk toga. In just a sheet, my mother could put to shame any designer

dress.

"What? Should I come?" she sounded so youthful and afraid. Her eyes were fading darker but her pale skin appeared almost as silvery as the moon in the midnight sky.

"No, Rose, it's fine. I'll be back shortly," he assured, smiling. She looked at me and gave me a weak smirk as if telling me to be brave.

"Emma, baby, why did you not come and fetch me?" she asked in a meek voice. I could hear the hurt. There was no anger any more.

"Popeye told me to stay in my bed and I did not want to be any trouble," I explained with little wheezes. She cringed when she heard the rattle of my lungs.

"Oh, sweetling, I am so sorry you are ill. Do you wish me to come?" she asked musically, hoping I'd say yes. She cupped my cheek in her cold hand and stared at my eyes.

But I shook my head. She could get sad so easily, I did not want to traumatize her. Things like sniffles and colds had her imagining the worst.

Popeye appeared, still tugging a t-shirt over his broad shoulders and tight torso.

"What's wrong?" he boomed.

"I'm not sure yet, but like I said it will not take long to run some tests," Papa Car guaranteed. My Popeye nodded then gave me a big hug. My Mia did the same and then they let Papa Car

take me.

I sat on the cold, paper-covered table swinging my legs while Papa Carlisle did the usual doctor stuff. As he conducted his own lab tests, he looked into my eyes, my throat, and then ran

his cold hands down my tummy, pressing in certain areas.

"Well, I can tell for certain that you have bronchitis and a sinus infection again," he said with a sigh. Then with a peek in my ears, he noted, "And an ear infection in your left ear. Looks as if

your immune system decided to take the week off."

That did not sound good, so I scowled and then unconsciously shivered.

"No worries, love! It's all nothing anti-biotics can't mend. But, Emm, can I do one more test? It will require a blood sample if you don't mind."

I nodded away in consent, trying to hide anything that resembled fear. He banded off my arm and told me to hold still. I watched as Papa Car pierced me then coaxed the blood into a

tube. I was entranced with the crimson liquid. I watched as it separated into yellow-white and burnt red. After praising me, Papa Car handed me his stethoscope and let me play while he

took my blood to another room to test it. Once I had listened to everything in the whitewashed room, I grew impatient. He took a very long time. When he came back into the room, he

acted as if he had forgotten about the blood and all the long tests he was doing. He just held up my coat and smiled a sad smile.

"Ready to go, Thumbelina?" he asked. My face went blank as I recognized the ploy. He was retreating; something was not right. Papa Car never kept the truth from me. In an instant, many things went through my mind, one of which I could no longer could contain.

"Does it hurt to die, Papa Car?"

He knelt, placing an icy hand on my fevered cheek. He brushed his thumb across my face and gazed at me, intently considering possible answers. At seven years old, I didn't need anyone

to lie to me.

"You, Emma, are an exceedingly observant and perceptive child. Let's not resort to talk of death just yet," he retorted, but he looked worried even as he said it.

"Ok," I agreed weakly. But all I could think of was my Mia and how hurt she would be if I died. Who would she dress up or play dolls with? Who would she try to cook for or waste her time

for? So I thought of all the ways to keep her happy. She had always said I was her joy, her sunshine, but I had to think of other ways now.

"Papa Carlisle, would it be all right if we never tell my Mia I'm sick? I don't want to take her sunshine away," I said referring to the song she sometimes sang. I shifted edgily before him,

hoping he would not scold me for suggesting such an untruth.

"Emmalie, this is your story to tell, not mine. As long as you would like to keep it to yourself, I'll not interfere. But secrets such as these only stay secret for so long."

I think we both feared telling her. She was not always the rashest being, we both knew that. Somewhere along the line our mother-daughter relationship took a twist. The nurture was

still there, but I now looked to protect her as well. The woman could fight off lions, but somehow I knew she was fragile. Her heart was like my favorite porcelain tea pot. It was broken

once, and while Popeye help me glue it together, I was no longer allowed to play with it. I did not want to. Could I really tell her something that would shatter her heart?

"And Popeye, too? He will be sad," I stated. "We can't tell him either."

Papa Car nodded in reluctant approval. "We will, however, need to set up a time each week where you can come with me to work for checkups, and you will need to take an ARV dose

daily. Antiretroviral drugs have progressed to the point where I should be able to prescribe it to you in syrup form," he added. Antiretroviral - that was a scary word, the first of many.

Checking his overbooked schedule, he gazed up at me over leather planner.

"What is wrong with me?" I asked, my voice faltering as I strived to be grown up enough not to cry.

"You are HIV positive, my love. It's a virus that weakens your body's ability to fight other things. You're CD4 level..." But he cut himself short, looking at my wide-eyed gape. "I mean the

soldier cells are low in number. Your state is progressed but not untreatable, sweetie. Do not worry," he said, knowing that I wanted to hear the truth.

"What's 'progressed'?"

"Most children are symptomatic at birth. Rarely does a child show signs as late as you. I suspect that this is so because we have not exposed you to humans and viruses, until lately."

"How did I get it? Was it the ear infection?"

"No, my love, not an ear infection. Your sickness most likely passed _in venously, _meaning you got it from your birth mom, well before you were even born," he explained. _How rude of her to _

_give me such a terrible thing before she even knew me, _I thought.

"I don't want to give it to anyone," I shared distressed.

"My love, this illness is not gifted. When passed, it is unintentional. But with the crowd you run with, I don't believe that should be a worry. Vampires don't get sick," he stated, smoothing

my bed-head hair with his steel-like hand. "And if Ness was susceptible to viruses, she would have contracted them long ago from her diet. As for the werewolves, it would defy everything

I have studied as of yet. Their body temperatures and cell regeneration make contraction of viruses impossible." Later we did talk about being cautious and what that meant but for now it

was enough.

"Will I ever get better?"

"No, my love, you will not. But I will do everything in my power to keep you so you do not digress," he vowed. I slipped into my coat and placed my hand in Carlisle's tight grasp. I dragged

my feet on the way to the parking garage, and then I asked Papa Car to pick me up. He carried me to the Mercedes while I faked sleep. Behind my closed-lid façade, my mind was spiraling

with worry.

The understanding came that I was going to die. I had been afraid of that because it was mentioned so much.

"_Emmett don't you dare take her in that jeep again. It could kill her." _

_"Jasper, stop throwing her around! You will break her head open."_

_"Do not let her by the water, she will drown." _

_"Do not run with my baby! If you fall, you could crush her."_

This was my one monster: death. I could not run. Death was inevitable. The only question was when.

* * *

**Chapter End Notes:**

**Reviews please. All questions and so forth are welcomed! I really would love to hear from you.**

**A.J.**


	8. Grow Up!

**Author's Chapter Notes:**

**As always, the same disclaimer applies. All Twilight characters are property of Stephenie Meyer and I am NOT she! The plot is mine, as is my OC, Emmalie.**

**A shout out to my two wonderful, God-sent betas, mrsz and luvfiction. They're making this possible!**

**My thanks for all your wonderful reviews! You are my favorite people to hear from!**

**

* * *

**

I dove into life with a fresh enthusiasm, head-first one could say. Edward began to teach me piano; I took to it very well, not as well as Ness but that was to be expected. Jasper tutored

me with his accurate insight on history; textbooks were lame in comparison. I knew every detail about the Civil War, right down to the horses the Generals rode upon. Uncle Jazz always

quizzed me during our history lessons.

"What was the name of General Lee's mount?" he asked with a charismatic smirk.

"Which one, Uncle Jazz? He rode more than one," I reminded impertinently. He laughed at my smart-aleck attitude.

"The one who outlived him, you little tike," he teased, plopping down in Papa Car's chair.

"Traveler," I replied confidently. He commended me with a nod.

"Stonewall's?"

"Little Sorrow," I exclaimed almost as soon as he said it. Stonewall was my favorite.

"Sherman's warhorse?"

"That is a trick question, Uncle Jazz! He had two, Sam and Lexington," I said, lofting off my chair into a cannon ball-like leap and landing on his solid lap.

I ignored my bruised knees and smiled. He laughed, slid to the ground, and wrestled me for a little. Mia, who had been eavesdropping over my lessons, poked her head into Papa Car's

study to break up our enjoyment.

"Great job, Jasper. Why don't you add _how to load Civil War artillery_ into her curriculum? Then she'll be really well rounded," Mia suggested, her alto voice laced with cynicism. My face lit up

and I turned to second the suggestion. Showered in my fervor, Jasper could do no more than laugh.

"What do you want to learn first, the M1863 10-pounder Parrott or the Springfield rifle?" he humorously posed, tossing me. We got in one toss before the Queen of Fun-sucking growled us

to a halt.

"So help me God, if my baby ever comes within a thousand yards of gunpowder, there will be hell to pay!" she said under her breath. Jasper rolled his eyes and I squirmed down to give

her a calloused glare. I was eight; I was not a baby.

Papa Car rounded the corner and heaved a sigh when he spotted my Mia's wound-up body posture looming in his study door.

"Am I interrupting something, Rose?" he asked, knowing the answer. My Mia huffed in response, tensing, while Jasper seemed to ease under his father's unassailable temperament. I took

my chance to plead my case.

"Yeah, Mia just vetoed a very educational experience," I informed him, folding my arms across my chest.

"What sort of experience?" he asked, stooping to my level.

"Oh, Jasper was just going to teach me to shoot a rifle, but Mia has to suck all the fun away!"

Papa Car let my insult slide and stood to probe his son's conscience with a raised brow.

"Firearms? What a suitable lesson for an eight-year-old!" he scoffed sarcastically, but he had a playful twinkle in his eyes. Jasper seemed to melt from Papa's mock disapproval. He strived

to evade any sort of blame, no matter how trivial.

"I was just joking when I suggested it. I didn't expect her to take to the idea," he mumbled in defense. I could tell Papa Car was not upset but amused. He just laughed and warmly

clapped his son on the shoulder.

"Yes, I'm sure you were joking," he said, ushering me back into his study with his other frosty hand. "Anyhow, history is over and science is now in session. Unless you two wish to review

the water cycle with us, you are free to go," he said before shutting the door.

He tutored me daily before rushing off to the office. This allotted for time to slip me my meds, the medications that made my stomach turn and my head throb. With all the side effects, I had

a hard time believing they were helping at all.

I excelled in science which Papa Carlisle delighted in. The office windowsill was always home to some sort of experiment: tadpoles, chrysalises, or ant farms. Decorating his study walls

were scientific charts and chicken-scratch sketches of my observations.

After all my lessons were over, Nana would effortlessly push all her beloved furniture against the living room walls, forming a temporary ballroom. Here, she taught me dances like the

Spanish Waltz, the Argentina tango, the Lindy, the Foxtrot, the Jive, and the Virginia reel. Jasper, however, amended her version of the Virginia reel.

Nana even signed me up for a ballet class at the Grey's Harbor Dance Studio. I loved it so much that I wore through ballet slippers faster than Alice could buy them. That same winter, I

danced in a community theater production of 'The Nutcracker' in Port Sequim. I fumbled once during the Waltz of the Flowers, but Aunt Bella said at least _they_ could see me mess up.

Apparently, during her dance recitals they tried to hide her in the back.

Aunt Bella let me sift through her library, loaning out her books to feed my literary appetite. I read books like _Little Women_, _The Wind in the Willows_, _A Little Princess_, and _Adventures of _

_Huckleberry Finn_. Bella had the shelves organized by age appropriateness, the top shelf being the forbidden fruit.

Naturally I, like any good descendant of Eve, waited until she was not looking and plucked the goods down. My Mia about slipped into convulsions when she caught me reading D.H.

Lawrence at only ten years old. While Aunt Bella gave me a love of literature, Aunt Alice spoiled me in every way a girl wanted to be spoiled. This was their second time around raising a

girl; they had pretty much perfected it to an art.

In the time that Carlisle was not drawing blood for testing or giving my meds, it was easy for me to pretend that everything was all right. Most days I felt good enough to ignore the fact

that I was sick. It was the days when I felt bad that encouraged my secrets.

If I so much as a sneezed, Mia had me in bed drinking herbal tea by the gallon. And when I coughed her golden eyes always widened with worry. On my sick days Mia's temperament

shifted. Grumpy would be putting it lightly. I had no intention of making her grouchy like that every day. I think Papa Car felt the same way. Neither of us was too excited to inform her that

her perfect world was all a façade.

For the most part, my childhood days passed quickly. I longed to shed the title of youth and all its confining limitations. I wanted to be older like everyone else around me. Alice claimed

after my twelfth birthday, I was twelve going on twenty two. That was just the way that I wanted it.

As I grew, Nessie did let me tag along. While she and Jacob were very private, she never let me feel as if I did not belong. She had the kind of love that made fairytale endings seem

superficial.

Jake was not only her companion; he was her best friend and soul mate. He filled every role from protector to caregiver, from lover to hunting buddy. Although I was a witness to her love

story, I could never tell it in its entirety; I only could admire the breathtaking magic from afar.

When it came to piano playing, Nessie was my musical ear. She could hear the songs once then play them. She then would teach me even when my uncle turned me down. The two of us

would pound out duets on the piano. Our selections always made my uncle wince. Part of the fun was the reaction we would get. We would laugh quietly as Uncle Edward would groan

rooms away. "I've created a monster," he always declared to himself and the two of us would laugh even more.

I loved Elton John and Billy Joel songs that my uncle taught to me only after I memorized a number of classics. When I was ten, I went through a phase in which I played "Your Song" over

and over until my Mia screamed for mercy. Nessie would always compliment me, as if the song was new to her ear and not played for the hundredth time.

She was my sister in every way and I could not have asked for a better one. She was daring and brave, sneaking out to ride bikes with Jake when we were supposed to be running

errands in Port Angeles. She was compassionate and sincere; practically everyone confided in her, even Nana Esme. Her emotions were always tamed; she never went off on her parents

like I did. She had an unforced humor about her, a trait inherited from her mother.

She saw everything in such an unusual light. She never needed to be anything but genuine. Her pristine purity was never ceasing. It was like some unpolluted spring trickling down the

Northern Cascades, a spring to which everyone rushed to bottle up and auction off. I wanted so much to be like her; I would have cast my bid.

I did make other friends, although I am not sure they qualified as human. Seth and Leah spent a lot of time at my house, at first as my babysitters, then as my friends. I kept them

entertained or at least distracted from their watch dog duties. Seth would hang in the house with us and eat my Easy Bake Oven creations when I was younger. More edible creations

came as I learned to really cook. By the time I was twelve, he didn't have to lie about how it tasted.

Leah, however, preferred the porch.

I never really understood why but she really didn't care for my family. She was friends with Ness and answered to Jake. She could tolerate my Aunt Bella with a window open and she could

stand Uncle Edward, Nana, and Papa at a distance of at least five feet, but that was it. Alice, she just did not get. Uncle Jazz and my parents she tried to avoid at all costs. I could tell my

Mia shared the sentiments. My rebellious preteen nature liked Leah all the more for that.

My telescope to the real world, Leah told me things that Nessie claimed I did not need to know. Her dry humor I found refreshing and her insight on my family sometimes came in handy. My

Mia claimed she was a bad influence and not fit to be around me, but I thought differently.

"Leah, why do you hate my family?" I asked one day when she was slumped against the pillar, her usual spot on our porch. Her deep ebony eyes narrowed at my question then rolled as if

the answer was obvious. She downed the whole pitcher of lemonade I had made for her, then glanced up, annoyed that I was still waiting for a response.

"Do we really need to go over this again, Emm?" she snapped back at me. She would not say my full name, for one reason or another it made her twitch. "I am a wolf and your family..."

"Yes, I know, they're the _Cold Ones_. The 'monstrous bloodsucking bastards that threaten your people,'" I recited verbatim for her. She smiled an evil grin, glad that I had learned

something. I shook my head at her. "I was just wondering if there was something else. Seth said something and I just thought I'd ask you... Do you think badly of them for... you know...

your shifting?" This time I got a huff and an even bigger eye roll.

"Congratulations, Captain Obvious! Do you want a medal or something?" she growled, her thin eyebrows lowered. I could tell she was trying to scare me off, but she did not intimidate me.

"It just seems that it makes you mad that we are...well... happy," I pressed with an innocent shrug. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her lank body stiffen, as if I had electrified her. She

tossed her black silk locks over her shoulder and looked at me again.

"Don't you have homework or something?" she asked between clenched ivory teeth. I shrugged, snatched the empty pitcher rudely, and got up, trying to look rejected. She stopped me

before I opened the front door.

"Emm, don't be like that. It is just that, life for all of you is butterflies and rainbows. It's a little nauseating. Do you know what I mean?"

"No, I really don't. We all live in the state of Washington. As far as I'm concerned, it's mosquitoes and rain clouds for us all," I retorted, but I knew she had a point.

"Emm, cut me some slack. I guard your house like four nights a week. It's just that I get kind of sick of making sure everyone else has their happy ending!"

"Then why did you follow Jake? If being around us makes you so miserable, why do you do it?"

Her dark eyes looked right through me and I realized I had been a little cold-blooded. Nessie had told me once that Leah had it rough, but no one ever disclosed details. All I knew was

that the imprinting thing had screwed her over - that and some bastard named Sam. I had met him once or twice at the bonfires, the bonfires I went to without Mia's knowledge.

"I would rather watch Jake's sappily ever after than watch what should have been mine," she admitted. I looked at her for a moment without scrutiny and then nodded. The awkward

silence begged for a change of subject.

"So, I really don't want to go back inside. Ness and Jake have claimed the sofa as their own and the whole room reeks of lust. I could always try to pry them apart with a crowbar but I

would have to look to do so," I explained artfully.

Aunt Bella and Uncle Edward were hunting. Since Jasper had surprised Alice with a trip to Milan and Nana was helping Papa select paint for his new office, my parents were left 'watching'

Ness. Unlike most Aunts, my Mia practically endorsed promiscuity.

"And I thought up a good prank but I need muscles to do it..."

"Keep talking," said Leah in her low voice.

"What if we moved around a few road signs, then anonymously called and reported that the Rez boy Jake did it?" I suggested my eyes bright with mischief. She considered it for a moment

and smiled.

"It's a little immature, but if you want my help, who am I to deny it?" she stated. "How far are we moving these signs?" she asked with eyebrows raised.

"I'm thinking East Division is going over to Steelhead Avenue and Brightwater Drive is taking a trip over to Three-Rivers Road."

She nodded in agreement, and then stood up.

"We'll wait for the cover of dark. Tell _the blonde_ we're going out for ice cream or something stupidly innocent. I'll pick you up around nine," she suggested before taking off into a graceful

sprint and disappearing beyond the trees.

I was always trying new things, most of which got me in trouble. Several times I was brought home in a squad car. However when the local police chief is your Aunt's father (who also

happened to be my accomplice's step-father), they rarely press charges.

My other brilliant ideas included rock climbing, street racing, and a type of tight rope walking. Since this all happened before I was thirteen, my mother called it my early rebellious teen

years. Of course I was grounded, but Popeye seemed almost proud of my stunts. It was Papa Car who had to play the role of disappointed parent. All it ever took was a cross look and I

buckled in shame.

"We have worked so hard to stay out of public eye, Emmalie. Unless you wish us to up and move, it might be a decent idea for you to keep your pranks to our property. Hmmm? Can you

do that?"

"Yes, I can. I'll never do anything to cause problems ever again!" I vowed. I truly meant it, every time. It was not fair for me to spoil it. I knew that he had made sacrifices so that our family

could stay here, the biggest one being his career.

To hide his ever young face, he had transferred to a new hospital, which made his commute longer even though for an immortal, a long commute was irrelevant. The rest of my family also

adjusted the way they lived. So to keep a low profile, we mostly stayed out of boring old Forks. They called it going into hiding.

Since no one aged, they avoided past acquaintances. It had been several good years since they had graduated from high school. Needless to say, high school reunions were out.

To deter any snoopy locals, they erected a steel gate at the end of the unpaved serpent-like drive. The house was secluded enough that neighbors were not an issue. We kept

inconspicuous rental cars on hand so if by chance someone would see us drive by, nothing unusual would come of it.

A dirt drive had been tracked out by the jeep to provide an alternate route to wooded back roads. They drove on these back roads and did their errands in neighboring towns on the

Olympic Peninsula.

Despite the efforts, our time here was limited. Aunt Alice said it was easier to start anew every now and then. It was sort of a vampire coping mechanism. If we moved, it most likely would

be, "...just above the Canadian border for a while," said my Mia. "That way our youth will not present problems."

I understood. We were not your typical family. Nessie looked maybe a year or so younger than her parents, I only five or so years younger than mine. When I was young, Nana could pose

as my mother when picking me up from dance class. Now that I was older, tinted car windows served us well.

By the time I was thirteen, Nessie and I did all the grocery shopping. Mia asked for the receipts so she could monitor my buying, still playing the health police. Ness bought food for her

ever hungry boyfriend and his comrades, while I bought for myself.

We were an odd pair shopping. Not always knowing what she was buying; Ness would just read the label, sniff, and grimace, then throw it in the cart. Her 'buy everything' attitude must

have been acquired over many shopping trips with Alice. Fights would arise about this and that. In the end, I always reminded her that she would not be eating any of it.

"Ness," I asked once, looking at the overflowing cart squeaking under excess weight. "Why did you choose three different types of mustard?"

"I don't know what sort he prefers," she explained to me with a shrug of her graceful shoulders. She flipped her bronze curls back and ignored me, browsing absorbedly at canned goods.

"Ness, he is a scavenger. He eats anything," I stated, re-shelving two of the mustards, but her dexterous hands had them back in the cart in an instant. Her eyebrows knit together and

her lip grew pouty. Frustrated, I dialed and held the silver phone up to her ear. It was not uncommon to spend an hour in the not-so-local-grocery and make over a dozen calls to Jake in

that time.

"Yes, I got that! Gosh, Jake!" she said. Ness never even bothered to greet him; they always just started conversation where they last ended. They were laughable.

"...I was just calling about mustard," she said awkwardly, shooting an accusing glare at me.

"...What kind...Oh, I see," she said flipping the phone shut. I was waiting for the conclusion, but she pushed the cart on, trying to ignore my 'told you so' look.

"He doesn't like mustard," she tossed the answer over her shoulder. She gave up her stubborn mind-set and smiled at the humor of it. We both laughed and re-shelved the unwanted

bottles.

After we had Jake's artery-clogging chow and my tofu and vanilla soy milk, we could check out. Standing in line, I could feel the eyes pasted to us. On the other side of the foggy glass

window, a man intently watched us, standing in the rain.

Something about him looked strangely familiar, but before I could point him out to Ness, he disappeared among the passing umbrellas. I shrugged it off as normal because it was an all too

common occurrence.

The stares were unavoidable and the bag boys were hopelessly incapacitated by her beauty. Nessie was so pretty that it was hard to get people not to notice her. The temptation to tell

them off was almost unbearable. I wanted to yell, "Close your mouths and stop drooling, bimbos! She's taken!" But I fumed in silence, bagging the selections so we could leave as soon as

possible.

Ness seemed to be genuinely untouched by the gawking. Most likely, she did not notice it. Hormonal teenage boys were like an alien species to her, and their gaping but a foreign tongue.

In many ways, at thirteen my understanding of humans was more seasoned and mature than hers ever would be.

Ness, at times, possessed wisdom that rivaled the greatest Greek philosophers. At other times, she was just too trusting for her own good. The whole world was good through her

picture-perfect brown eyes. Her parents realized that Ness was naïve in many ways. For that reason, my Uncle formed the cursed code of conduct, a written contract for unfortunate Jake.

Ness claimed it was "overbearing and vindictive" but Jake agreed to it without fight.

The sour note of the agreement was the marriage clause. Uncle Edward asked that Ness remain with them for the standard eighteen years. Ness was ready for marriage by the time she

was eight, ten years more was like torture.

It was not that she wanted to get away from us. She loved us all. It was just that she was eager to start her life.

But with that came the fear that we would be separated, maybe she did not realize that. We were destined to move at one point or another and alpha wolves were not known for their

willingness to relocate. If Jake would move, he would be the first of his kind to do so.

Secretly, I thanked God for the contract she hated so much. Those eighteen years were all we were guaranteed and they were passing quickly.

Tension ran high when discussing the subject. Ness would push for more leniencies and Jake would try and agree with her but not oppose her parents. It was not just Uncle Edward he

feared. Aunt Bella was not opposed to socking Jake in the face when he took liberties with her baby. The fights were something to behold.

Usually, they involved Aunt Bella smashing Jake's head repeatedly against a hard surface while she made threats upon his life. It did not really help that Jake just snickered at her. My

Popeye usually spurred her on with laughter, while my Uncle Edward stood by. Jake really sucked at defending himself.

"Bella, try to understand! Think back to before you died, when you weren't the lifeless dull vampire bride. You were cool then! Remember?"

My Uncle tried to suppress a smile, while my Popeye gave Jake a pat on the back. "Good job, Jake! I think you got Bells to _understand perfectly._ Come on, lil sis! Show him how you 

_understand,_" my Popeye said with his mischievous grin. My Uncle Edward did not have to mind read to know what was going to happen next. Aunt Bella's lips would curl into a smile right

before she drove her fist into his jaw.

"Yeah, I remember a few things!"

Ness would rant about these fights and I tried to appear as if I was mature enough to understand. As I grew older, Ness and I grew closer, our relationship changing for the better.

She was easy to talk with just like my Aunt Bella. Her gift always came in handy when she wanted to tell me a quick secret. Mostly they were things like, "I'm sneaking out cover for me." It

was easier to keep the thought from her father that way.

She was the one to teach me how to outwit her mind-reading father. Alice had taught her one way but it involved advanced knowledge in linguistics. "Nothing irks Edward like a good old

translation into some strange dialect," Alice had told us both. Nessie taught me another way.

One day she and I both got called out on the whole lame curfew thing. The following morning, we were sentenced to weed the massive garden. The garden was well kept by Nana; it was

just the side that was closest to the woods was constantly invaded. The two of us wanted to take a break, but every time we sat down and chatted for a bit, Uncle Edward would bark,

"Get back to work, you two!" Even though he could not see us, he could tell when we strayed from the task by our thoughts.

"Just think about doing it," she whispered directly into my ear to keep it from the ones with the all powerful hearing. I smiled as I imagined myself weeding and collapsed in the grass

exhausted. It only worked for a little while before Aunt Bella came out.

"Your father says nice try, but because of your wit, you've been awarded the front garden as well," she said handing Ness a canteen of blood and me a glass of fresh lemonade.

"Damn, he can tell now?" she asked her mother taking the canteen in a sulky swipe.

"No, Renesmee, he heard you explaining. You should know by now there is no such thing as whispering," she reminded with a smile. "And Emm, consider the continuation of your life a gift

from me, to you. This is the last time I am going to lie to your parents. It's not the moral of the thing; it has more to do with my deficiency in deceit."

I smiled and nodded. "Now, get this done so I'm not the sole captive of Alice's shopping frenzy. She wants to leave by two." At that news, we put our gloves back on, defeated, and set to

our task. Instead of leaving, Bella remained there. "...Ness?" she asked in a meek voice, as if she recalled something. Aunt Bella rarely used her nickname. It caught us both off guard.

"I just wanted you to know we understand how you feel. But a curfew is a curfew. Just because we approve of you and Jake does not mean we give you free reign to come and go as you

please. When you told us you would be home by midnight and didn't come home until three...well...we worried. We can make it later; three in the morning is fine as long as we know when

to expect you. It's just, we can't cross the border," she said her voice so young.

The bonfire at La Push went long and Ness and I both came back a little late. I went back to pulling weeds so not to impose on the mother-daughter conversation.

"Mom, I really don't see why it matters. It all seems very hypocritical to me. Jake claims you and Daddy were sharing a bed at 17."

"Ness, you can even ask your grandfather. I was in the house by midnight," she reminded in defense. It was not really a good one.

"Yeah and he was right there with you," Ness mumbled. Bella was about to argue her point but was diverted by my yelp. A prickly weed pierced through my glove. I gave them a contrite

smile and went back to work so Ness could go on.

"Mom, really, it's ok. I promise I will be in before midnight and I'm not mad at you or anything. We all know that you just go along with Daddy and his crazy over protectiveness because

you are too _dazzled_ by him to say no. He's a controlling, manipulative, 100-some-year-old-and-counting grump. I'm not blaming you," she replied cunningly. I burst out laughing, but when

Bella gave us both a stern stare I passed it off as one of my coughing fits. Just then my Uncle Edward popped his charming head out the side door.

"Ness, keep it up and you'll be plucking every weed in a mile radius of the house," he threatened, the look on his face not at all amused. Aunt Bella sighed and walked back into the house,

granting us a quick pity smile. I could tell Aunt Bella felt guilty. Ness grumbled to herself picking weeds ten times faster than I could.

She caused her parents a lot of worry some times, but she was not the only one.

It was a tradition we kept, the first night the men were gone we claimed as 'Goddess night.' It was a night of face masks, pedicures, and chick flick marathons, of course conducted by the

master. Ness and I speculated it was one of those "human experiences" they felt we had to have, but we never let them know we were on to them.

The film was paused upon the mammoth screen, while my Mia took a call from my Popeye. I overheard something about a surplus of Canadian moose; apparently they had arrived at the

happy hunting grounds. I turned my eyes to the scene fixed before me on the screen, when the conversation veered from hunting to mushiness.

On the screen, a man stood above a casket being lowered into the frozen, wintry ground. In the background, behind the beautiful people dressed in black, there were ranks of granite

headstones, a garden of men. Ivory markers of the dead buried next to their beloved dead, lover next to lover, brothers and sisters and so forth.

It had always unnerved me but I just then understood why. If I were to die today, I would be alone in that cold ground. No family to my right or left.

No one.

I was pulled from my thought by Mia who slapped her phone shut and began to paint her steel nails again. Bubbly Alice was about to push play when I asked. It was innocent; I never

meant to hurt her but I did not think, not at all.

"When I die, can you bury me in the front yard?"

At first, I think Ness thought it was a joke but when she looked at me she realized. My Mia's eyes turned to coal; Alice and Nana waited for her to erupt as expected, but she remained

frigidly composed. Bella, never being one for confrontation, turned her eyes to the floor. I could tell she was fighting to hold her tongue. My Mia pried the remote from Alice's little hands

and glared at her family.

"The movie is over," she spit at Alice, as if it were her fault that the movie contained death. She hurled the remote against the wall and it shattered into a thousand pieces. Nana rolled her

eyes, I assumed that this was not the first time my Mia had broken a remote.

Bella gathered some of the plastic splinters and ushered them into a trashcan, an excuse to leave the room. Nana followed her lead. Alice simply glared at her older sister, upset by the

cancellation of her favorite night. But my Mia did not back down. Realizing this was entirely my fault, I attempted to make her see reason.

"Mia, really, don't ruin it all because of me," I said pleading with her, but she just shook her head. "You can't have it both ways. You either turn me or you let me live, dying being a part of

that." A fierce look unfolded a crossed her face.

"We are not going there tonight, Emmalie. You know, I don't change my mind," she snarled back at me. If someone was to watch our confrontation from the window it would appear as if

we were sisters fighting, not mother and daughter. At thirteen years old, even I sometimes forgot the difference.

"We are going there if I take us there and you can either change your mind or accept reality. Take your choice," I hissed. Nana's scrubbing of the already clean counter took a noticeable

crescendo. Alice moved out of the warpath, while Bella watched waiting to come to my defense if need be.

Aunt Bella, at times like these, could be my biggest advocate; it was not that long ago that she had played the lowly mortal among gods. Not only did she remember what it was like to be

human, but she wasn't afraid to speak her mind.

At the moment she remained silent because she knew Mia was about to lose it. Ness, I noticed, stayed beside me. I did not know what I expected. Mia was nothing but stubborn when it

came to the 'plan' but I felt I had to try.

The plan was something she had formulated herself. It went like this: I would take the SAT at 16. Go to college early a few years early- since I was already past high-school material, be

anything I wanted. Get married, buy a house, have 2.5 kids and become a car pooling, soccer mom. All the while keeping the secret of my parents to myself, visiting them on Labor Day,

when my hypothetical husband could watch the hypothetical offspring.

Nothing was wrong with any of those things. I may have even pursued them if not forced; those things were what she wanted, not I. I was to let her live vicariously through wallet sized

photos, home-videos and stories I would tell her. I thought it was sick; she thought it was brilliant. Deep down she had to know that none of this plan was practical. It meant we had to be

apart.

"Emm, I am warning you," she growled, picking up nail polish and tossing it back into a ridiculously oversized caboodle.

"No, Mia, I am warning you. I will die at some point," I yelled at her.

"Unless you want that some point to be right now, I suggest you go to your room," she threatened with her icy voice. I winced; this was a voice she usually reserved for my Uncle and

Leah. She took a step closer using all her fear-provoking predator methods to get me to cower to her will. "Now!"

"Bite me," I growled at her, rising on my toes, inches away from her face. I think I knew that 'bite me' wasn't the appropriate thing to say to an exceedingly pissed vampire, but if worse

came to worst, maybe I would get what I wanted.

It was the only time she ever slapped me and I somewhat welcomed it. In truth I could tell she was holding back, because if she wasn't, the bones in the left side of my face would be

cookie crumbs. I was glad the men were all out hunting because if my father were here, it would have meant my ass. Mia's expression teetered between regretful and smug.

I decided to make my exit then, she knew better than to run after me. Usually, I moped by the brook behind our house. It was my place to clear my mind. After an hour or so of berating

myself and ranting to the open air, I would come back.

I was heading in that direction, when I saw silver glisten out of the corner of my eye. The keys dangling in the Ferrari's ignition were calling to me like a Siren. Uncle Edward was always on

her about leaving the keys in the car.

In an impromptu decision, I opened the door and slipped behind the wheel. Driving was something everyone had been secretly teaching me to do for so long and this was not my first time.

License? Who needed that? I just left; at thirteen I did not have any connections. So I just drove the familiar roads to La Push, knowing no one but Nessie would follow me there. My

parents hated me going there; it unnerved them to no end. At this point in time anything that made her suffer was punishment she had earned.

I parked the Ferrari under a flickering lamppost not too far from the Clearwater's old house. After tossing the keys in the driver's seat, I stalked across the street and down the winding

path to sea level.

It was showering a sleet-like rain, but I did not care. I found a secluded spot where the shore side narrowed and tide pools freckled the rocky terrain. On the frigid beach with wet clothes,

I practically called for the Grim Reaper. The bitter cold and the rain made it hard to sniff me out.

It was 11 hours until I heard the recognizable howls. I think that everyone was certain that I had run somewhere else. Leah, Seth, and Quil were the ones to first discover me in my cold,

decrepit state. Seth gathered me in his arms and held my shivering remains to his bare chest.

"Your family thinks you're dead. How could you do something so brainless?" he said coldly.

I closed my eyes to hide my shame, but I think he knew. I realized that this was not the greatest idea for someone with my health history. I was prone to pneumonia, bronchitis, and

respiratory infections in general. I silently hoped that maybe Carlisle would give up trying to keep me healthy and go ahead and turn me.

Seth's arms were like a sheet of warmth. I avoided everyone's eyes. Seth's, then Jake's eyes as he buckled me into the familiar black car that pulled up.

"Wait! What about Aunt Bella's car?" I asked not wanting to be in more trouble than I already was. I held the car door open and looked at the foursome who stood in the rain.

"You mean the car that you left with the keys in the front seat?" Jake roared at me. Leah gave a little snicker, but the death glare from Jake shut her up. Seth looked as if he wanted to

shield me from the alpha wrath, but had no intention of getting in Jake's way.

"With Alice's visions we tracked the car to a bar in Port Townsend. Some drunk apparently thought that you left him a ride to meet his buddies! This is a reservation, Emmalie. It's not

exactly Mr. Rodger's neighborhood! You need to GROW UP!"

I was silent for a moment. A shirtless Quil excused himself with a mumble in Jake's ear, then got into his truck and chugged away. I flinched when Jake slammed my door. After some quick

words with Leah and Seth, he then stalked around front, parking himself in the passenger seat with a huff.

He was beyond irritated. Not always as reserved in his emotions as my family, he probably would have cussed me out, if it were not for the silent driver. The sunlight that filtered through

her shady windows made the trail of tears glisten against her perfect cheek. It was no wonder Jake was so upset; he hated when she cried.

Out of guilt, I hardened my heart to her show of emotions. She was really overreacting. It was not as if I had made a suicide attempt or ran away for good. I was fine; the car was most

likely in one fixable piece. The guy was not drunk before he went to the bar, right?

Nessie was usually pretty cool about things. If she was this upset someone had worked her up, most likely my mother. As Ness made her sniffling noises, I rolled my eyes. All I knew was

that the reaction I was going to get from my parents would be this magnified by a hundred. They were all blowing this out of proportion.

Engulfed in excuse making, I tried to watch the trees pass as Nessie sped me home. Jake got out, slamming the door in his temper. She slipped out of the car in silence. She went to open

my door, but I hit the automatic lock on the door in front of me and sank down in my seat refusing to go inside.

"Alright," yelled the agitated Jacob, pushing his upset Nessie aside, "I have seen enough of your brattiness! Open the door or you will have a run in with a werewolf prior to being fed to

the angry vampires."

I shook my head and was overwhelmed by dizziness, but I remained persistent. I knew that I was going to have to face my family sometime, yet I refused to get out. The voice that broke

my defiant stance was cold.

"Unlock the damn door, Emmalie."

Like always he was just a phone call away. It mattered not that he had been clear crossed the Canadian border, all it ever took was a phone call and he was there.

I looked over at my father's face and felt more tears burn in my eyes as I conceded. I was in his strong arms and whizzed into the house before I could even exhale. Sorrowful faces

greeted me.

My sweet Aunt Alice sat on the impressive staircase, her downcast face in her doll-like hands, frustrated at her temporary blindness. My Aunt Bella immediately hugged Nessie and thanked

her then looked tenderly at me. My Uncle Jasper and Uncle Edward sat on the couch speaking in hushed voices but there stares were on me, cold stares. They were angry and dark eyed,

most likely grumpy about their shortened hunting trip.

But I could not take my eyes off my mother. Her back was to me, her arms against the counter, Esme comforting her. She did no more than flinch when I entered; she would not even turn

around. Guilt gathered in my chest like cancer. I could hardly breathe. The look on my face had to be pathetic. Jasper must have been startled by the cocktail of emotions coming from us,

for a wave of serenity flushed the room.

My father immediately looked me over. I could tell he was not pleased with the findings. I did not see why: four limbs, ten fingers, ten toes.

"You look like hell," he roared. He circled around me taking a second look.

"I'm fine," I hissed back in the way that I had been taught. He brought his hand down so fast on the seat of my jeans that I didn't have time to yelp. I could feel the blister rising

immediately and tried to hold back tears. He probably had no aim at hurting me; he never could recognize his own strength. Still, he made me so mad; I was a teen not a toddler!

"What in the blazes has gotten into you?"

"I'm going to die. I don't know why you even want me! Surely, there is some other human you can keep as your pet." It was harsh and so untrue; still I said the irrational statement all the

same.

My mother turned around and stared at me with her pain filled eyes. I could tell she wished to do nothing more than cry, but all she did was moan. Another belting swat landed, so I began

backing away from my father.

"I'm tired of being the house reject. Couldn't one of you be ugly, or at least screw up once in...I don't know, a decade. I am done with lessons and school and dancing and everything. You

win. Why should I even try to keep you happy? I will never ever succeed at anything. And you letting me win at chess does not count, Uncle Jasper! I'm m...m so alone and I'm scared

because... because I have to die so slowly and watch all of you."

My Papa Carlisle's gentle hands turned me to face him. I had not noticed him till then. He did not look mad or even worried, his eyes only held compassion.

"Thumbelina, I'll not let you suffer; you know that. Now, Alice, bring me my bag."

He looked me over with a swipe of his eyes and a quick palpating process that I was familiar with. "Swollen glands, a fever, and shortness of breath. You really jeopardized yourself, young

lady," he evenly commented. He never yelled, but he had that disapproving tone down to a T.

"No more treatments, Papa Car. It doesn't help anyway," I said sadly. My mother gracefully rushed to my side the words making her tremble. I knew better than to mistake the trembles

for fear; she was livid.

"What's wrong? What treatments?" she asked in her beautifully hushed voice. It was so quiet that she may have not been heard if it weren't for the appeal of it. I noticed her hands were

shaky as she wrung them. This was the eye of the storm. Papa Car looked caught for a moment.

"I'm dying. I have HIV...and I am discontinuing treatment," I added firmly to Papa Car who was reaching in his bag.

Papa Car looked shocked by my forthcoming, as if he had not thought me capable of telling her. My mother made a sharp intake of unnecessary breath and Nessie let out a sad little

sobbing sound. Esme and Bella looked to Papa Car to verify this. Bella's eyes narrowed the way they always did when she was concentrating on keeping us safe, but I knew that it was

not going to work this time.

Jasper rose to his feet and glanced over at little Alice, who stood patiently with the bag, eyes fixed to her dainty feet. Were her eyes full of guilt? I did not know. Edward pinched his nose

most likely expecting a headache, maybe hiding his lack of surprise.

I knew they had kept quiet for me. Alice and Edward knew all along and gave me the decency to come forth on my own. Maybe in vampire time five years was not a long time to keep a

secret, but to me it was a good portion of my life. I loved them so much for their devotion.

My mother wrapped me in her arms and cradled me. I gave her a weak smile and looked over at my fearless fun loving father.

"Popeye, please do not be hurt. I did not want you to be hurt, that's why I couldn't tell you. I couldn't, you see! Don't feel bad." He just backed away as I spoke. He looked mad, as if I had

betrayed him. They were so helpless; loving me for whatever reason had made them this way. I did not even notice my crying until I spoke again. "Really, don't feel bad. I had the best

family an orphan could ever hope for. I would have died long ago if it weren't for you all...Mia, please don't look at me like that."

I felt her perfect arms tremor in fury, like a volcano ready to spout flesh burning lava. My Mia screamed rage dripping from her voice.

"DID YOU ALL KNOW? HOW COULD YOU? HOW? CARLISE? HOW!"

Blank faces stared at her, my Popeye stormed out the back door ripping it off its hinges. Papa Car ignored the rampage and pulled from his bag my HGH injection, the AZT, and my mineral

therapy treatment. I was tempted to knock it all to the floor, but did not. "I am not taking any of those things. I already told you that," I yelled at him and then folded my arms across my

chest. I was determined to let this end here. No shots, no enormously large pills, this was it, my dying day.

"Emma, love, be cooperative," he pleaded. I struggled to get away so Papa Car could not convince me to take the meds. This was my decision, selfish as it was. I walked assertively to the

stairs. _No one is going to persuade me now_, I thought.

Then, a set of steady, cold hands pulled me back. I felt sleepy in an instant, emotionally drained, just like I did when I was little.

He was such a cheat. It was so unfair but predictable, none the less. The last thing I felt was a sharp prick in my arm and pills pushed between my lips. Too weary to fight, I swallowed as

ordered. Before slipping into unconsciousness, I realized that no one was going to just let me die. Death was something that they feared more than me. And so life went on.

* * *

**Chapter End Notes:**

**1676 hits and only 5 reviews...hmmm. Some of you are holding out on me. )**

**I really would love to hear from you all. Thoughts, ideas, whatever you have to share, I want to hear it. This is a learning experience for me, so please do not stifle any criticism you have. As long as it is constructive, you can throw it my way.**

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	9. Accidents

**Author's Chapter Notes:**

**The same declaimer applies; All Twilight characters are sole property of Stephanie Myer and I am not she.**

**A big thanks to my two wonderful, God-sent betas, mrsz and luvfiction. They're making this possible!**

**Well friends here it is...**

**

* * *

**

_Two years and 247 days later..._

"Emma, you've been in there long enough! Out now, before I take the damn door off the hinges!" rang the threatening order outside my bathroom. I sighed and pushed my luck, running a brush through my tangle-free hair and applying another layer of lip gloss. After a half-satisfying glance in the mirror, I flung open the door as requested. Exercising all of my haughty teenage antics, I awarded her a defiant stare.

Ignoring me, she slipped into the bathroom and tossed open the drawers to my vanity, searching its contents until she spotted what she was rummaging for. "You were in my stuff again," she coldly sang as she plucked out her eyelash curler and zipped it safely away in her Chanel cosmetic bag. Her death rays did all the scolding for her. I could not help but sneer as I stomped down the hall.

"Christ on a bike, _Mia_! I was just borrowing it!" I yelled back to her. She growled, trailing after me into my room.

"Borrowing insinuates asking, then returning. You did neither ...and take off that gunk on your beautiful face," she commanded, her perfectly sculpted eyebrows lowered.

I used to think she was lying through her pearly teeth when she told me I was _beautiful_. I was certain it was some family conspiracy; brainwash the human into believing she is good-looking. Yet at some point, I came to the realization that I was actually attractive.

To complement my mature, almost 16-year-oldattitude, I had all the curves a girl could want. I still was slender, small in general. Alice and I were much alike in size; like her, I was still petite but not without my assets. The thick hair that my Mia had always forbidden me do anything but trim and layer was a cascade of auburn with strands of golden blonde. The big green eyes that I always hated were often complimented upon.

"Uhhhh, why does a girl have to be eighty to wear make-up in this house?" I pouted, kicking the bottom of my window seat in annoyance. I danced around on one leg for a moment, nursing my stubbed toe in my hand, while singing a chorus of owwwww's. Apparently this was amusing to her. She chuckled as she watched me hop around.

"Emm, honestly, can't you just smile and nod when I tell you to do something? You don't need to wear make-up, at least not that much. Come on, evening eye-shadow at 10 in the morning? We subscribe to several different magazines for a reason! You should know better! Get it off or I'll take you outside and hose you down."

I was holding her responsible for my hurt toe and now she was also going to totally cramp my style. No way! I shook my head to refuse, but faster than a card dealer, she flipped open her cosmetic bag.

Before I knew it, she had invaded my personal space with one of her expensive facial wipes. She swabbed away at all my hard work until my cheeks were raw and my temper was fiery. At first chance, I pulled away and collapsed on my bed, defeated.

"You are so annoying!" I groused.

"I know. But just think, in two days you'll be here with just Alice, Jasper, and Ness. And then you'll miss me," she said with a wily smile and a playful pinch to my still raw cheek. "Oh, I set your pill case in the kitchen. Don't forget to take them at noon with that mineral supplement in the refrigerator." I nodded andscribbled down a mental note. I never forgot; I don't know why she reminded me. "Now, I'm going to go finish packing," she admitted blissfully.

It was one of my parents' celebrated times, an anniversary of some sort. She had been packing for _this one_ for the last week. What was left to pack?

"You do know that your bag can only weigh so much? They probably won't even let you on the plane!" I forewarned, trying to sour her mood so it matched mine. She pivoted in the doorway to face me, granting me a condescending smirk.

"Emma, please, I have been traveling longer than you've been breathing! With the right amount of money, I could lug an elephant on that plane and they would just smile and ask me to fly with them again," she bragged with poise before sauntering off to her beloved packing. It was fine with me; I was ready for a break from her suffocating rules.

_But, it's going to be totally weird being in this house with such a minimal number of vampires_, I thought to myself. While my parents were on another one of their getaways, Nessie's parents were spending a weekend in New York.

Uncle Edward, who was a patron of the Seattle Symphony Orchestra, was gifted tickets regularly. This time he traded with a Met member for tickets to La Traviata, some boring old opera that only he would want to see.

Nana was also planning to head out this evening to redecorate her retreat home, repainting it in what she claimed was '... a romantic hue of pear.' And while Papa Car was going to be 'home' the next week, he was working double shifts at the hospital due to the new med-residents. This meant he would be 'sleeping' there most nights. Just my Aunt Alice and Uncle Jazz were left to watch us and it was going to be great.

Ness and I were plotting to live it up. I had made plans to go to our fave hot spot in Seattle, Trinity Nightclub, and then head over to Chop Suey to check out who was playing.

Ness, unbeknownst to me,had made her own plans for that night. She and Jake were planning on having a different sort of _fun_ in Seattle, the kind I did not want to see.

Usually, it was just the four of us: Nessie, Leah, Claire,and me. We mostly danced and laughed, pretending to be normal. Claire accompanied us after an immense amount peer pressure, but it always made her nervous.

She fretted about everything from driving the speed-limit on the way there to breathing in too much second-hand smoke at the club. Her biggest worry was what would make Quil unhappy and what made Quil unhappy was anything that caused him to worry.

It was a vicious cycle that resulted in the dullest, yet most caring, couple the world would ever know. I think if Quil could have put Claire is some type of bulletproof glass bubble to keep her safe, he would have. And Claire would willingly put herself in that bubble if it made him happy. It had to be the imprinting thing, because I did not get it.

I knew he only cared for her. Yet often times, it was as if he forgot she was no longer in grade school. The way I saw it, she was on a tight leash; one that did not allow for anything unsanitary, immoral, unsafe, or remotely fun. I tried to tell her it should have been the other way around** - **that the dog should be on the leash, but she never really appreciated my humor.

This time it was going to be just Leah and me hitting the clubs. Claire called and bailed, saying that she and Quil were attending great Aunt Hilda's 104th birthday party. Could she have a more lame excuse? It was worse than my SIM character feeding the damn llama!

Anyhow, Ness agreed to let me go if I drove up and back with her and Jake. I think since my fake ID had been a present from Ness, she felt slightly guilty letting me go without her supervision. Leah's impulsiveness did not alleviate Ness's worry.

Leah was a partier; she drank but never acted stupidly trashed. She liked the bad ass persona, but both Nessie and I could see through that protective facade. According to my ID I was 18; old enough to get in but not without that cursed UNDER 21 stamp branded on my hand.

I wouldn't have drank anyways; I knew that if even the slightest hint of alcohol lingered in my breath, no amount of mints would keep me from being attacked by an angry mob of vampires. Leah was the only one who did not really have to answer to anyone - well besides Jake, whom she frequently mocked.

Keeping our outings hush-hush was sometimes problematic. Leah provided an advantage. Mainly she served to blind Alice, allowing our lies to be accepted at face value. Our usual 'fake plans' involved sleepovers in La Push, the forbidden land for the parental unit.

At the moment, I lay on my bed texting Claire, letting her know that we were 'sleeping over at her house' that night. I got an immediate "k *wink wink*" from her before plugging my phone in to charge. Mia's voice once again echoed down the hall.

"EMMM, have you seen my Marc Jacobs boots?" Mia pleaded. I sat up on my unmade bed and cringed, knowing the fate of the missing boots. With Alice's replacement boots in hand, she came stampeding into my room. "Please tell me this is a cruel joke," she demanded, shaking the incriminating evidence in my face. My lips contorted into a wince, confirming what she already knew. "What in Hell's gates was she thinking?"

"She claimed they were last season," I explained, giving her the 'don't kill the messenger` look. The expression that masked her face was priceless.

"I've told her to stay out of my closet. Now she's going to pay!" To that resolution, she tore the soles off the never worn designer boots then flung them to the ground with ample force. I rubbed at the dull pain building in my temple as she stormed from my room into Alice's across the hall.

I heard her tearing through drawers and ripping through filing cabinets until the commotion ceased and her overly sweet voice lilted clearly through the upstairs hall. It was the flawless impersonation of my Aunt Alice.

"Yes, this is Alice Cullen. I would like to freeze all of my accounts...Thank you," she chimed still clutching the phone to her ear when I peeked out my door. Oh, this was bad, very bad. Messing with Alice's shopping money was the equivalent of dropping a grenade in the front seat of her Porsche. I needed to go for reinforcements before this progressed into World War III.

I slid in sock-covered feet down the hall and downstairs, swinging around the mahogany banister at the bottom. Nana was on a redecorating spree, rearranging the furniture in the living room, angling the massive couch ever so slightly.

She quit humming and skimmed me over with her warmhearted eyes. Seeing my distress, those same eyes then glanced to the stairs from which I had descended. I could tell she was tuning her vampire hearing to something taxing, for her heart shaped face darkened.

"What is your mother up to now?" she asked in an anxious whisper, moving to the base of the stairs.

"She is punishing Alice for replacing her boots," I enlightened. I was nonchalant about it, not because I didn't care but more because I doubted she would succeed. Esme's marble brow furrowed, as she darted up the stairs.

"Rosalie Cullen, hang up the phone!"

Ness and Bella slipped in the front door in time to hear the first muffled bout of screams. Bella was wearing her old faded jeans and an 'Alice approved' sweater. Ness had on Jake's Nirvana hoodie and black denim jeans, a not so Alice approved outfit. She still looked stunning though it was obvious she just tossed on the clothes without thought. _God, she was just so effortlessly beautiful and it was so unfair_.

A muffled whine from above pulled me from entertaining any further green-eyed thoughts. Bella and Ness both gazed at the ceiling, listening in to the turmoil. Bella shook her head at us before unenthusiastically trudging up the stairs to assist Nana in calming my mother.

"Don't worry. I'm sure Alice saw this coming and transferred her funds to another account. If there is one thing that Alice has her prophetic eye on, it's her finances," Ness assured. Evidently, those few moments staring at the ceiling allowed her to be filled in on the situation.

"Yeah, that and us," I confirmed flippantly. She cursed under her breath acknowledging the unfortunate truth, and then pulled me toward the kitchen. There she yanked me into our well-stocked pantry and shut the solid oak door behind us. I fumbled around in the dark looking for the light switch, but Ness found it first and flicked it on, illuminating the small space.

"Do you think Alice suspects anything? I mean about us going to Seattle?" she asked in a charming whisper, her eyes darting to the left and right, the routine practice of a teen under constant vampire surveillance. The screams from upstairs served to drown out our whispers. My mother had unknowingly created the perfect backdrop for our scheming.

"No, I told her this morning when she was leaving for that boutique. She seemed to buy it," I whispered.

"What did you tell her we were doing?"

"I told her we were camping out in Claire's backyard, just us girls. Claire agreed to cover if they call," I added.

Ness pursed her lips, digesting the fake plan. I could tell being fraudulent with her parents was beginning to wear on her. She had avoided talking details with me until now, just to keep her mind clean of the real itinerary. Her father was not an easy person to lie to. He was always the first to hear about anything.

"What about your dad?" I asked, knowing that if anyone was going to destroy our one night of freedom, it was her father.

"He knows I'm guarding my thoughts, but he doesn't know why. He has been particularly hard on Jake these last few days. It's funny because Jake doesn't even know about our date-night yet," she said, giving me one of her stunning half smiles.

I did not know how she constantly did it; just let her dad read her every thought. Her thoughts were most likely kinder than mine; still it would drive me into a state of pure insanity.

Uncle Edward gave me the illusion of privacy for my comfort alone. It was an unspoken truth that he would not comment on my thoughts, unless they were so troubling he felt obligated to. Because of his mind reading, I think he was the uncle I was closest to but avoided the most.

My insecurities were huge and all too apparent to him. He knew how I feared the prospect of dying; but most of all, hurting our family when I did pass. He was aware of how I used my mother for a measuring stick for beauty. In my mind I was nothing short of plain. He knew that I took great pride in being my mother's child. He also knew the shade of envious green that tinted my soul when it came to his perfect daughter.

Often times, when he caught me in these covetous thoughts, I could not look at his golden eyes for days. Rarely would he confront me about my notions, but when he did he was always both accepting and loving. He had reasons not to be, yet he always was.

Weeks ago, I had grown overly flustered by the song he picked out for my piano lesson. I could play it; it was just far from perfect. Whoever said practice makes perfect was a liar. "It does not have to be perfect, Emmalie," he reminded, pulling my tense hands from the piano keys. He made me look at him. "Some of the most beautiful things in this world are the results of imperfections. Your playing is your own. I love your little mistakes. They make it your own; that is why I'm always so reluctant to point them out."

Other times he contradicted my internal critique of my reflection. "Emmalie, you are beautiful. You know that, don't you?" To which I always rolled my green, not golden, eyes. "And what is more is that you have a beautiful heart. I know that very good uncle says that line. But what you forget is I'm the only uncle who gets to hear his niece's thoughts. You have so much of Esme in you, her compassion and charm. And you take after your father, getting that smile when you get your mischievous ideas. You have his love for life. Yet you're so much like your mother it is uncanny. Sometimes when you throw your little fits, I forget who I am looking at. We all love you. Do not be ashamed of who you are."

I realized that my Uncle Edward was not just a mind reader but a soul reader. He did not just hear thoughts, he often understood them.

His perception probably came from a century of trying to comprehend idiotic teenage girls. I was just glad he did not take my thoughts at face value, because I resented the one he loved most.

"Speaking of my father, what were you two talking about yesterday?" Ness asked interrupting my thoughts. She cocked her head ever so slightly and let that curious gleam sparkle in her doe-like eyes.

"Yesterday?" I asked, using what little acting skills I had to play innocent. I turned and started to OCD the pantry, organizing the items to ignore the question.

"Yeah, yesterday, when you came over to my house," she verified sweetly, clasping my hand to replay the memory of me fidgeting awkwardly as she answered the front door.

"Oh... just things," I said with a small shrug.

"Just things?" she asked, suspiciously narrowing her eyes. She was used to me telling her everything and my cryptic replies were more than she could take. Her eyes were becoming more vampire-like by the second.

"UmmmHmmm," I said letting my mind wander back to the day before.

Yesterday was the day I opted to give my official 'I'm sorry I always bitch about your only daughter' apology. I planned it out in my head for weeks and eventually got the nerve to do the thing before he left for New York.

So, I ambled down to the cottage he and my aunt shared and knocked. When the door swung open, I was confronted by the very reason I was apologizing. Nessie, with her perfect chestnut curls bouncing over her shoulder, quickly embraced me, unaware of the jealous thoughts plaguing my human mind.

She greeted me silently, as she sometimes did, calling me _her Emmy_, and showing me that same embarrassing home-video-like-memory of me when I was five announcing to everyone that she was _my Nessie_. Guilt surged through my mortal veins. If Jasper was here he would have done a double take.

Behind Ness, my uncle was sitting on the floor playing with my aunt's hair. Bella was nestled happily in his lap. She had a book clasped in one hand while her other hand was reflexively petting his thigh. I personally had no problems with the displaying of affection due to my parent's liberal exercise in that vicinity. But Bella quickly dislodged herself and pranced over to hug me.

"Are you having more qualms about biology?" she asked in a sympathetic tenor.

"No, actually, I came to the conclusion that if oxidative phosphorylation was not something that I have to consciously do, I would really rather not understand it."

Nessie giggled at my response. Aunt Bella smiled, but I could tell Uncle Edward disapproved of my choice to be ignorant. Smart people expect everyone to be smart.

"Does this mean that you are not going to study for the test tomorrow? We could always postpone it until I get back," Aunt Bella posed, her teacher mentality resurfacing. As of recent, she had taken over my Biology tutoring, since Papa Car had become overly swamped at the hospital.

"Aunt Bella, I don't even see the point of taking it. Couldn't you just make it and ask Alice how I will do on it? You would not have to grade and I wouldn't have to waste my time."

Everyone laughed at my suggestion, but then the room fell silent.

"Actually, I was wondering if you'd go on a walk with me, Uncle Edward," I asked, fiddling with the silver locket around my neck. He smiled at me and whispered something in my aunt's ivory white ear.

"Sure thing," he replied and escorted me out the door.

At first the walk felt really awkward. So I just shuffled along kicking the leaves, not noticing that my uncle found me amusing. We walked for a while before he broke the silence.

"Emmalie, you don't have to do this," he declared with that gorgeous smile. It occurred to me at this point that he probably had heard me practicing for the last two weeks. I could not help but laugh at my stupidity.

"Uncle Edward, I have been rehearsing this forever. Can you please just hear me out?" I requested still kind of laughing. He shrugged and nodded, his eyes warm.

"First, I would like to say thank you for not exposing me every chance you get. I do not really know why you don't tell my mom every time I plan something, but I'm grateful."

"Emm..."

"Don't interrupt!" I scolded lightly, raising my hand to hush him. "Secondly, I'd like to apologize for all the times you have to hear my bad thoughts. Not the times when I refer to my mom as a vamp-tramp. I mean the times when I go on about Nessie. She... well...she is everything I wish I could be for my parents. She's really yours and I will never really be my parents' daughter. The jealousy, it... please do not think less of me. I love her like a sister, I honestly do," I spilled out in complete honesty. I took a breath and waited for him to tell me how horridly ungrateful I was, but it never happened. He did not even look mad.

"Emmalie, I understand. You know, you're wrong though. You are your parents' daughter, everything they want and more."

"But I'll never be like Nessie is to you," I said, pulling at straws.

"Emmalie, try to understand. Rose has passed up dozens of opportunities to adopt in the past. Right after the depression, why there were orphans by the car load. The idea never appealed to her then. You were chosen and you were meant to be a part of our family. I don't know what it is about you but I doubt any vampire in the world would find you appetizing." I smiled. I knew what he meant, but it did not feel like a compliment.

"We all worried at first, when Alice told us you were coming here. I mean we have had incidents in the past when Bella was human. Who was going to freak out when you fell and scraped your knee? Or what if one of us slipped? We all pride ourselves on our control, but Bella never lived here full time until after she was changed. But you, you're different. Never has any of us run into one like you. Not once has someone been tempted. You smell different. I can't explain it."

"You can tell me, Uncle Edward, do I reek?" I asked with a smirk. He laughed throwing his head back.

"No, actually you smell good, it's just not appetizing. Umm...let me think of a good smell that I can compare it to." I looked at him for a moment confused.

"Like autumn," he said as the epiphany hit him. He kicked his feet in the foliage littering the path.

"I smell like rotting leaves? Great," I said bitterly, looking dejectedly at the ground.

"No, you do not smell like it. It's just the same appeal," he corrected, coercing me into a grin with a playful nudge. We turned and started back, he matching my pace. I wondered if it frustrated him not to be able to walk faster. My family was all obsessed with speed.

"No, it does not frustrate me," he answered with his crooked grin, slowing his pace as if to prove it.

"Liar," I accused under my breath. I felt as carefree as we walked back up the winding driveway. I'm sure it looked like I was walking with my brother or my boyfriend, but definitely not my uncle. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him smile.

Interestingly enough, Claire always asked me if I ever thought of my uncles, my Popeye, or Papa with anything more than just a family affection. To which I would scrunch up my face in a sour lemon expression and respond in the negative. "Uhhhgg, no!"

"Oh, come on," Claire prompted. "Your grandfather looks like the lead on some hospital soap opera, your Uncles and father have extremely gorgeous, only-a-few-years-older-than-you bodies. You live with the first four months of the Firefighter Calendar and you never think anything of it?"

"No. They all gave me baths and stuff. That's just gross, Claire," I said disgusted.

The thought made me cringe even as I walked beside him. I could tell my Uncle was following the recalled conversation, but he looked a little lost.

"What's the _Firefighter Calendar_?" he questioned in his musical voice. I looked at him for a moment then giggled. For someone who had been around forever, he was clueless.

"Uncle Edward, you know!" I whined, blushing when I realized I was going to have to give a description. "It's the...hunky, half-naked firemen that make that stupid overpriced calendar? It's a kind of Hallmark version of porn," I finished awkwardly. However, he did not seem to accept my explanation, instead he gazed at me pointedly.

"Your father needs to keep a closer eye on you," he admonished teasingly. My cheeks flushed with more color; I knew he was trying to torment me but I gave in just the same. It only took a single mock reproachful stare for him to have me feeling entirely guilty. "Hallmark porn!" he guffawed, picking up the pace, as if he was going to run home and tell everyone.

"Awww, Uncle Edward, I never said I had one of those calendars, just that theyexist," I defended, chasing after him.

"EMMMMAAA!"

"EARTH TO EMMA," Ness yelled jolting me from my memory with a light shake. I realized then I had completely zoned out on her. "Can you hear me? What kind of things? "

"Nothing big...just things," I stated once more. She just laughed to herself.

"You sure can be secretive when..." but just then the door to the pantry flew open and Bella and Nana stood there looking at us with raised eyebrows.

"What are you doing?" my aunt asked, one hand planted on her bony hip.

"Oh, just organizing human food, alphabetically and by food group," Ness supplied, shrugging like it was a perfectly normal thing to do. I played along, flashing a smile then placing a can of organic squash puree on the shelf in a Vanna-like-demonstration.

My Aunt frowned but Nana just beamed at us, proud that we had inherited her knack for organization. Ness began moving boxes around to enhance our ruse, but my skeptic Aunt Bella called us to a halt.

"Stop! You're creeping me out, so just...just...stop," she demanded, prying a box of oatmeal from Ness's hand and throwing it back on a shelf. We both came out of the pantry under Bella's scrutinizing stare. "I do not know what you two are up to, but I really need to go if I'm to meet your father by one. Now, do you want me to drop you off at the La Push border or should I call Jake and tell him you'd rather alphabetize canned goods?" she demanded, looking her daughter in the eyes.

"You can drop me off," Ness piped quickly. Bella looked at us both distrustfully and nodded. She then turned toward the door while talking to herself. Ness followed her, but not before hugging Nana and inviting me along.

"Do you want to come, Emm? That's really why we stopped by; I told everyone I'd bring you along! Seth and Leah are going to be over at Jake's. We can shoot pool and stuff," she stated, trying to bait me into coming. I smiled but shook my head no.

"No, I promised I would try on outfits for Alice when she got home," I said, trying to hide my lack of enthusiasm. She scoffed at me and kissed my cheek before darting out the front door Nana was holding open for her.

"Enjoy the torture. I'll see you tonight, kay?" she yelled before dashing to the purring Ferrari parked in front of our house. Nana closed the door with a sigh then looked at me.

"I can help you organize the pantry, dear," she ecstatically offered with a generous smile. It was so sweet, she thought I had been ditched and was attempting to entertain me.

"That's ok, Nana. I think I will save the rest for a rainy day," I lied. She nodded, then tucked my hair behind my ear with an icy finger.

"Well, alright. Your mother is out in the garage, but I think it would be best if you let her tinker around alone for a bit. Oh, and your father called to remind you about tonight. He said you would know what he was talking about," she added, attempting not to be the prying mother.

She always was trying to stay one step in front of my father when it came to his schemes, prank-proofing the house she called it. "Are you doing anything exciting?" she inquired. I could tell that she wanted me to share, but was not about to choke it out of me. Instead she casually glanced over her shoulder to gage my response.

"Umm, not really...nothing too exciting," I stated, looking the other way to conceal the smile that would have told her the truth.

Later that night, I was flying through the woods at some 80 miles an hour, the branches whipping against the jeep's windshield.

Popeye's expert driving had us airborne half the time and nose diving the other. He always spoiled me when he was planning on leaving the next day. Tonight was no exception. The jeep made several hairpin-turns around trees then continued on along an incline at a rapid speed.

The muddy ground must have caused the tires to slip because we skidded to the left and down a steep bank. My heart thudded in my chest as we rolled. My Popeye put his hand over me as if to protect me. He caught me before the seatbelt even locked, so I would not even suffer a seatbelt welt. When the jeep jerked to a stop, I immediately burst out into giggles. My father must have mistaken it for tears, for he sprung into action. He busted out his door, jumped down like a cat and was prying me out before I could exhale.

"Emmalie, are you alright?" he questioned, excessively concerned. His eyes had a puppy-like plea to them. I could tell he was totally hating himself 'for almost killing me' as my Mia would say. He sometimes got mad at himself. I did not see why; this was so _wicked_. Not every girl got to go on extreme adventures with their daredevil fathers.

"Popeye, chill, I'm fine. In fact, I'm better than fine. That was sweet," I said, squirming down from his hard arms and to get a better look at the jeep. We totally flipped the jeep and had it wedged between two goliath trees, suspended and stuck. It was like a blue ribbon in the off-roading championships. I swelled with the small amount of pride one feels from a job well done. "It's my turn to drive!" I joked.

He winced and looked at the jeep.

"I'm not sure I can pry this one loose, hun. I think it might be totaled," he appraised, letting his dimples furrow deeper around that big goofy grin on his face. I loved that he was so care free, well about most stuff anyway.

I went over to the jeep, pulled out my new jacket, jumping when the jeep lurched forward. He pulled me a few feet away so if the jeep decided to finish its descent down the hill, I would not be going with it.

"It is soooo very totaled! Mia is going to kill you," I warned with wide eyes. He smiled at me, unafraid of the possibility that she would find out. I could tell he was just planning on buying a new Wrangler, so he did not have to tell her. Sometimes he was more like my brother than a father. He turned and uprooted a tree, laying it down.

"Want to sit down?" he asked me in good spirits, his natural charm taking over. I grinned and sat on the tree next to him. After a few seconds, he pulled out his vibrating phone and answered it.

"Yes, _Alice,_ we're fine," he muttered annoyed at his little sister. "I don't know why you call, when you _know_ these things!" Then he listened to her and growled deeply, the sound resonating in his chest.

"Alice, did you have to tell her? Are you trying to ruin my marriage _and_ take my life?" He listened for a moment before growling again.

"Well, that is just the shit, Alice. Thanks a lot," he grumbled, slamming the phone shut, and then mumbling the usual Cullen string of profanities. I granted him a quick pity look.

"I take it that wasn't Onstar calling?" I questioned, trying to lighten his mood. He huffed; I could tell he was thinking about hunting down my aunt. The fierce look on his face almost frightened me for a moment.

"So, how long do you have to...exist?" I asked innocently. He did not look at me, just ahead, a death glare meant for his sister.

"Alice said she would be here in the next ten minutes," he grumbled in his grudge-holding tone. I nodded and looked back at the jeep, searching for a solution.

"Maybe you could run me home and pretend you were in the jeep alone," I suggested. I knew we were way north of Forks, probably by Ozette Lake. He could run that. Laughing broke through and I knew he was not angry any longer. "Or maybe you could distract her," I ventured. His quizzical look told me he was questioning my common sense.

"How could I distract your murder-intent mother?" he inquired dryly, raising a big brow above his handsome eyes.

"Just take off your shirt and turn on the jeep's radio to some soft rock," I suggested with mischief in my green eyes. I tried to duck as his big hand ruffled my hair.

"Have you been taking lessons from your mother or what? You're such a little rascal!" he teased, loosening up further. We both chuckled, and then it was silent for a moment. If it weren't for the fact that any minute my mother would come and screech us out, it would have been a good father-daughter moment.

"So, do you really think I could be in the Firefighter calendar," he asked with a growing smirk. I punched him then shook the sting out of my injured hand.

"Uncle Edward was not supposed to tell you that," I protested lightly. He laid back and chuckled some more. I noticed the log croak, threatening to buckle under his weight.

"You know you could be, so why do you have to ask," I jibed in my snippy teenage tone. His laughter turned into the booming kind. "And I don't know why you're laughing! You have scarred my perception of men forever!" I accused, not really meaning it. He shot to his feet like I had hit a pinched nerve and glared at me.

"Emmalie, what do you mean by that?" he asked in a gruff voice that could be easily be mistaken as angry.

"Well..." I said, "You're too perfect: handsome and strong and all. Where am I going to find a guy that will ever even come close to the standards you've set?" It was true. Every male role model in my life was a striking resemblance to the life guards on Baywatch. Guys like that did not just walk around, single, down the streets of Forks, Washington.

He took a seat once more, chuckling to himself. "So let me get this straight: I have scarred you by being_ too handsome_." He flashed that understanding yet cocky smile, the one that made me want to punch him. The sting in my hand had me ignoring my instincts.

"Yes, well, that and you are all so old fashioned and overprotective. Jasper even stands up when a woman enters the room," I griped. "Your mannerisms...well, they do not make men like that anymore."

This was also true. Jasper was the epitome of proper. Since he was born in an age where public affection was taboo, you seldom caught him being anything but a gentleman. My Papa Car always held the door open for Nana. Uncle Edward would take it a step further even, buckling Aunt Bella's seat belt for her when driving together. I often caught my Popeye taking my Mia's arm while she descended the stairs, as if she were a delicate thing that might fall down without him. All their chivalry made you feel like you were trapped in some black and white film.

"So because your uncles and I..."

"And Papa," I added.

"Right, because we all are so handsome and _genteel_," he said with sarcasm, "you will never be able to find love."

"Exactly," I said, happy that he understood. But he just roared in laughter, only stopping when he noticed that I was not even smiling anymore.

"I don't see why any of this matters now. I have repeatedly forbade any dating until you're thirty," he said half teasing. I did not find it amusing, so I just pouted, then glared. He noticed and tossed his hands in the air.

"What do you want, Emm, an apology? I'm sorry I look and act the way I do? There, are you happy now!" he commanded in exasperation. To show him how happy I was, I stood up and kicked the fresh log where he was still sitting.

"No, Popeye, I want you to change me," I said firmly. He looked up, his eyes fading like embers from warm gold to black coal. I had entered the `No Trespassing Zone' of conversation world.

"Emmalie, we have had this discussion before. We agreed, we wanted you to have a normal life," he said, his eyes just daring me to fight him on this.

"Popeye, I'm sick. I can't have a normal life," I spit bitterly to him.

"Emm, you are in remission. Carlisle says that as far as he knows, you could stay that way for years," he retorted.

"Popeye, I want to be like you. Please let me! It is my decision to make," I argued.

"Emm, you are a minor. Until you're eighteen they are my decisions," he stated standing up. He had grown up so much. I wished he could act like he normally did when I asked him for things. _"Sure thing, babe, whatever you want. Go ahead. Just don't let your mom find out."_

Instead he was using the twisted lines of sitcom fathers everywhere. Perhaps, he had been taking tips from Charlie. Whatever it was, I did not care for it. I preferred the cool big brother role to the authoritative parent. I was going to tell him to cut the damn act, when her voice broke through the woods.

"Emmmmeeeetttttttt!"

We both turned toward my Mia's fury-filled voice.

"Not a word more about this, Emmalie. You know how the topic upsets her," he hissed. I could see her in a clearing not but half a mile away, her hourglass shape a shadow against the sunlight filtering through the trees. She was by our sides in a heartbeat. The first thing she did was slap my father, the second to scour me over for bruises.

"I'm fine, Mia, I promise," I reassured, but concern was still etched in her face. She turned to accuse my father, poking a slender finger at his chest.

"You could have..."

"No! I could not have _killed her_!" He cut her off before the accusation could be finished. "I had it totally under control. Right, Emma?"

"Yep, look how he saved us by so _brilliantly_ lodging the jeep between those two trees. He so had it under control," I remarked sarcastically. He playful shoved me and I would have fallen down if he did not remember his strength in time to catch me in my fall.

She turned her eyes from us to the jeep and sneered. I could tell her mind was spinning with the body work that needed done. Like usual, she seemed almost elated at the task.

"Give me the diagnosis, babe. Is she dead?" my Popeye said approaching her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and dropping kisses on her pale shoulder. He was taking my advice. So far the makeup was going pretty well, possibly too well. She giggled; I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

"Emmett McCarty Cullen, have you ever seen a car I couldn't salvage?" she as she turned to face him with a seductive smirk and a caress to his face. He lifted her off her feet, and his lips locked to her neck. Her legs wrapped around his midsection and they were lost in the moment. _Wait a minute_, I thought, _I never advised him to do that_. Only my parents could use auto repair as a prelude discussion to sex.

The plane could not take them away soon enough. They so needed a vacation. No correction, they needed to get a room in a far-away-out-of-my-hearing-range country.

"Let's keep our hands to ourselves until a more private moment arises. Okay?" I suggested as they locked in one of those tongue-plunging kisses. I closed my eyes trying to block out what I was seeing. They totally did not hear me. "Or I know! How 'bout you wait to do all of this stuff tomorrow when I am NOT with you? Does that sound good?" I only got moaning as a response, and I was pretty sure it was not a response to anything that I had said.

At this point, I decided to resort to Plan B: evacuation.

"Ok, so here is the deal! You stay where you are! Just let me get a good mile or so away before you go baptizing the area in bodily juices," I begged as I darted off the way my Mia had come, my hand shielding my eyes. They must have gotten the message because I heard them laugh as they followed behind me, hand in hand, no doubt.

In less than a day, they would be on that six a.m. flight. I could have my freedom and they could get whatever love potion they drank out of their systems. I glanced over my shoulder and shuddered.

Everything was going to go as planned. _This weekend is going to be sweet_, I thought. _Nothing can ruin it now_. Just then the phone in my jeans pocket vibrated. I pulled it out, seeing Leah's number flash across the screen.

"Hey, Le, what's happenin'?" I asked in an excited slur of words, looking to see if the lovebirds were paying any attention to me. There was a brief pause and then an answer.

"Uhhh, actually it's me...Seth," he corrected sounding really awkward. His voice caught me off guard at first. "My phone is somewhere in the woods busted into a million little pieces, along with my new pair of jeans."

"My condolences," I said in a dry tone. "What is this, the fifth cell phone in the last year?"

"Sixth...but that is not what I was calling about." He sounded annoyed, I could not imagine why.

"What do you want, Seth?" I asked, mirroring his annoyance. Behind me my Mia was giggling at something my Popeye had suggested. They were wrapped up in their own little world, not even noticing that I was on the phone.

"I want you to change your plans for tomorrow night," came the voice through the phone.

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**Chapter End Notes:**

**I will be waiting for a while to update. I want to get a better feel for how this story is coming acrossed to readers. I really need feedback.**

**Thanks again for taking the time to read and please do review.**


	10. Dancing With Danger

**Thank you all for the reviews, they could have not come at a better time. I've been very discouraged in many ways and for a while came very close to stopping and deleting the story and Emmalie form both my computer and all of cyberspace. **

**AND when I say close I mean it was all highlighted and my finger was on delete. **

**But I'm going on for you. And for those wonderful mentor/ beta people I am always bragging about.**

**Keep the spuring reviews coming, I'm still in a slump.**

**ALSO A HUGE THANKS TO THE STAFF AT TWILIGHT ARCHIVES. Posting here has been by far the best experience I have had in the world of fanfic. **

**Oh, and I'm not SM... but you all know that by now. **

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_"I want you to change your plans for tomorrow night!"_

"Come again?" I asked, thinking I did not hear him right the first time.

"You heard me, Emm! Don't play me for a fool! You, Ness, and my Medusa of an older sister are planning to do something stupidly irresponsible. Whatever it is, cancel and do something else!" he barked.

_Who the hell did he think he was? He had no right to tell me what to do! None!_ I growled as I stalked over to the M3 parked alongside the leaf-littered back road. Since my parents were taking their merry old time, I climbed in and plopped down in the back seat. This was beyond ridiculous! I was _so _going to give Seth Clearwater a piece of my mind.

"First of all, Seth, we're never irresponsible, and second, what I do is none of your business. I mean, really, who died and left you boss?" I ranted into the phone, my acidic tone the pure likeness of my mother's.

"Emm, we promised Edward that the house would be under 24-hour surveillance. Tomorrow night is my shift and no one is going to be doing anything risky on my watch or-"

"-Or what, Seth? You'll go howling to my uncle? Come on, Jake is coming with us and so is Leah. That is two-thirds of your stupid 24-hour surveillance wolf squad! I think we'll be alright," I argued, twisting a strand of my golden hair in pure aggravation.

"Emmalie, I talked to Jake. He said he knew nothing about your _plans,_ so you can cut the act!"

"Seth, Ness has not told him because she thought he would compromise us! He does not know how to guard his thoughts like us. It's going to be a surprise. Ness planned it that way." I looked out the window and saw my mother and father a few yards away. "Listen, I have got to go! Promise me you will NOT tell!"

"Emm, as long as you change your plans to something that won't give me a heart attack or lower your life expectancy, it will be fine."

"Uhh...yeah, sure. I'll think about it," I promised - I mean, lied.

"I mean it," he encouraged, but I hung up the phone because my vampire parents had taken their seats in the front of the car and were now looking at me quizzically. I smiled innocently and searched my mind for an excuse.

"Charlie wants Ness and I to come over to his house for dinner on Friday. Sue is making meatloaf and stuff. Seth was just calling to invite us," I said, maintaining that same weak smile. My father laughed as my mother grimaced at the phony menu.

"And he _means it_?" Popeye questioned, referring to the last barked words coming through the phone. _Damn that vampire hearing! _

"Yes, he means it," I repeated without thought.

"He means what, Emmalie?" he asked still laughing.

"That we are_ really_ invited." When I saw the bewildered look they both were wearing, I added, "You can't be more invited than us."

"How kind for the_ dog_ to be so genuine in his invitation," scoffed my Mia through clenched teeth. She rolled her golden eyes and peeled out onto the dirt road. "Should we let her go, Emmett?"

"I mean, sure, if that's what she wants to do. Charlie and Sue will be there," he reminded. I grumbled in the back seat.

I hated that they talked about me as if I was not there. I hated even more that they were acting as if I needed permission. I was a few short weeks from my sweet sixteen. In my mind I was adult enough to no longer need their thumbs up on everything. "I really don't know how she plans on eating with the dogs. The wolf B.O. always screws with my appetite."

"Well, Emm, you're clear to go. As long as you have Nessie take you and your phone is by your side, you should be alright." She gracefully shrugged in consent, but I could see her golden eyes examining me in the rear-view mirror. "Be safe and have fun," she added quietly.

_Oh I will_, I thought, _more fun than you know._

The next afternoon, in my nearly empty house, I hummed contentedly to myself. After Alice and I dropped the lovebirds at the airport, I had spent the morning straightening my tresses to silky smoothness, preparing for our night out. After I had received the_ seventh_ bullying text message from Seth, I turned off my cell phone. He was so loyal to my Uncle Edward it made me want to gag. _He won't rat us out! He doesn't have the guts_, I rationalized to myself.

Other than the annoying ringing of my phone, the house had been eerily silent all morning long. In fact it was so quiet that it almost felt like someone else's home. To comfort myself, I set down the ceramic flat iron and went downstairs to flick on ESPN2. _Yeah_, I thought, _that will fill the void, _and I nodded in satisfaction. Somehow I was eased by the booming of the final scores, scores of games that would have been watched were my father here.

"Awwww, you miss them don't you," Alice cooed, hugging me and smoothing my hair with her wintry fingers.

"NO. I. DO. NOT! They've only been gone for a few hours. I just miss all the noise they make," I hopelessly denied, pulling from her hug to turn on Esme's stereo in the kitchen. The classical music added to the surrogate background-noise.

My Uncle Jazz emerged silently out of the basement and looked me over. Trouble clouded his handsome face for a moment, but it dissipated when he shook away whatever he was thinking. He was a man of few words, only saying what he had to.

"This must be some camping party," he inquired wryly, eyeing me with dubious eyes and a strained smile. "Is it a formal affair? You look awfully nice," he added sweetly, letting the wave of pity come crashing down.

_Resist! Resist!_ I thought, trying not to let him guilt trip me into a confession.

"Well...uhhh...you can never look too good for the great outdoors," I responded quickly with a little shrug. I could tell he was trying not to laugh at my lame excuse. It was obvious that they both knew something was up. He, however, was not going to push the matter.

My aunt was another story. She stood to his left looking overly rejected, as if by keeping a secret I was spooning her poison. For a moment she slipped into that unnatural daze, the one that so often got me in trouble. But she blinked it away, giving up. I knew that she had been grasping at visions of my plans, but they were fogged over by Leah's involvement. My uncle unceremoniously kissed her cheek trying to dispel her apprehension.

"I am going to go pack my, ummm, stuff," I explained, excusing myself. I could not take the guilty feelings or the pouty face for a second more. Then I darted up the stairs and skipped down the hall. Upon entering my room, I tripped over Ness's empty overnight bag.

She had come by this morning with her stuff. As always in absence of her parents, she planned on camping out on my trundle bed. Under their direction, she was to stay at our house, so she would not be alone in the cottage. But it was not as if she really _stayed_ here. She was with wolf-boy every given moment, hanging out with him by day and sneaking out with him at night.

Even now, we were _supposed_ to be getting ready together. But when she heard him howl, Ness was dressed and ready in thirty seconds flat, leaving a whirlwind of her clothes littered about my once tidy room. Since she was ready early, she used the allotted time to go on a walk with lover boy.

She had promised to be back by two so we could leave for 'Claire's house,' aka Seattle. Leah was planning on meeting us there, since she and Jake could not be in a car together for over ten minutes without going rogue-wolf on each other.

I heaved a sigh, plopped down on my bed, and compared two possible nail polishes. I thought about my royal purple halter hidden deep in my closet and opted for the darker of the two shades. I had finished the first coat when I heard Alice's joyous squeal from all the way downstairs. The imp pranced into my room and shut the door, leaning against it as if she was keeping someone out. I looked at her questioningly, wondering what she had seen this time.

I wanted to be mad at her, but I just couldn't.

We almost looked the same age now. But, my Aunt Alice - she looked like she stepped out of some fashion magazine. Today her outfit featured a white tunic, chocolate leggings, and knee high boots, complete with all the_ Alice accessories_: coordinating head scarf, matching earrings, and a bronze chain belt. The outfit was typical of Alice, but her glowering expression was something new. Demanding my full attention she stomped one of her little designer boots at me.

"You may be able to hide your destination from me, Emmalie, but don't think I'm unaware of your little schemes. Inviting Leah just to keep me from knowing! Yes it works, but it is heartless and cruel." Even her yelling had a harmonic tenor to it. "Still, I'm not completely blind," she bragged, exceedingly proud of her little self.

_Stick to the story_, I coached myself, but I knew already she had won.

"I saw you wearing some not-so-appropriate camping apparel. So do not even try that one," she accused. Her lip jutted out in a pout and her boot tapped an annoying rhythm.

"Where did you get the top?" she asked, dropping the act and letting her voice lighten more than she probably intended.

Her love for fashion was overriding her _grown-up_ obligations. I looked at her for a moment and then waddled to my closet, since the tissue was still between my freshly painted toes, and untucked a shopping bag. I lifted out the sultry purple halter that I had bought with Nessie weeks ago. Then I showed her the cute little jean skirt.

"I'm very proud...oh...and disappointed," she added, remembering she was supposed to be the mature one. "Emma, really, you cannot go out wearing this. None of the men in this house would approve!"

"Oh, Alice, this is the 21st century! Women don't ask for approval of attire from their uncles," I trilled in an almost sixteen-year-old's whine.

"They do if they are 15-year-old little sneaks!" She fingered the denim and gazed at the silky purple top, her mind wheeling with possible shoe choices. I knew her looks too well. "Ok, I will strike a deal with you. Your parents went away this weekend expecting me to keep an eye on you. You can go dressed in your seductive little number - _if_ you let me come along. I promise you can go wherever you want and neither your parents, nor any other, will hear of it from me."

"I'll take it," I exclaimed after giving it very little thought. She would be cool about things. At least I _thought_ she would be cool about things.

Alice nodded, pleased that this bargain earned her a say in what I would wear. Her golden eyes drifted to my crimson toenails and her lips curled up, no longer pouty.

"So that's where the Ruby Red went to. I was looking for it this morning for Bella," she exclaimed, exceptionally delighted. I shrugged apologetically. Alice had all the nail polishes labeled with their proper name and in alphabetical order. I of course wrecked the system; but as always, she never lost her patience with me.

My Aunt Bella had to suffer through the 'Wrath of Alice Day Spa' this morning. My mother escaped with an early flight. Alice tried to makeover my mother in the distant past, but it did not go over so well. So Alice steered clear of her older sister and played with her little sister. Aunt Bella was a compliant victim.

She and my Uncle Edward were probably landing in rainy old New York City; we were expecting a phone call any minute to confirm it.

Just then the door lurched an inch or two.

"You two better be decent because I'm comin' in," announced my Uncle Jasper's sweet southern voice with a gentle rap to my door. He usually did not let the accent come out; it was reserved for extreme manipulation, both Alice and I knew that. I hid the outfit under my pillow and steeled myself.

He came in, eyed his pixie-like wife suspiciously, and heaved a sigh.

"You two are fogging up the whole upstairs with deceit. What in the devil are you planning?" he asked in his sweet enticing way. It was the honeyed voice that made you want to tell all. But being subject to his gesticulations for so long, both Alice and I recognized this wave of openness we were feeling. He was _so good_ at getting you to spill your guts.

"Darlin'?" he asked my beloved aunt, planting a kiss on her pale forehead. _Southern endearments! The ultimate weapon in manipulation warfare! He's playing dirty now, _I thought to myself begrudgingly. I was sure she would give in and tell all. Yet, I was pleasantly surprised when she did not crumble. I think he was impressed as well, because he pulled away and let his eyes burrow deeper into hers.

"Very well, Alice. Just remember when you two get caught, I'm not going to keep Emmett from pounding you," he lovingly teased. His thin fingers found their way under her arms, tickling her into agreement. "I'm going out to ride on my bike. It would be helpful to me if you both had departed for your sinful outing while I was away, that way I can truly say I had nothing to do with it."

He danced for a moment in her arms, then added, "Nessie is not answering her phone. If you happen to see her, remind the girl that the device only works when it's on. Oh, and tell her that her parents landed safely. Emmett and Rose, however, got laid over in Vancouver," he informed, cringing slightly at me.

We all knew that my Mia would undoubtedly go medieval on whoever it was that was holding up her trip. The airline people in Vancouver were probably getting to see 'Witching Hour' at its best. Uncle Jasper smiled, kissing his wife's hand in his gentlemanly ways. Then true to his word he made himself scarce.

When he had left us Alice set to work, satisfied with the chance to be included in anything that involved dressing up. After she had left her artistic mark on me, she skipped away to give one of her never-worn outfits a night out. I used the moment to inform my missing cousin about a re-vamp in plans.

Speed-dial forwarded me to the usual 'Ness' message.

"Hey, it's Ness! Jake and I cannot get to the phone right now. I usually don't listen to my voice-messages so feel free to speak your mind. Go ahead! Tell me all the things you would never say to my face! I'll call when I can, love you much!"

Beeeeeep.

"So here's the deal: I've got a ride to Seattle, so you don't have to worry about me. Now you and Jake can take that bike of his and I don't have play the third wheel. Seriously, Ness I'm going to be alright. And I'll cover for you; I'll tell Alice you two are doing something. Have a good time and do not forget that I expect you to s_how me _details. Love you. Text me when you get there," I rambled in one breath. I realized then that there was something about that beep that made me babble like a fool.

After a minute or so, I was over my voice-message remorse. I gathered my phone, fake ID, and a wad of most likely unneeded cash, and tossed it all into my 'Alice selected' clutch. Next, I went to pull Alice from her closet, but just as my hand went to her door knob, she flung open the door. Her head was cocked to one side and her big eyes were betraying her hurt.

"_Seattle_?" she asked, as if she was stunned that I even knew of the place. I realized then that she had thought we were going to Port Angeles. I had not really run the plans by her and now she looked a little shell-shocked by the vision she saw.

"Yes, I was coming to tell you that we should leave now so we can get there. It's a good 4 hour drive," I explained, shifting nervously, waiting for her to back out of our agreement. Her big golden eyes ran up and down me, as if she was meeting me for the first time.

"Yes, I know, but, Emm...it's just...you've never been to Seattle. We were going to take you when you turned sixteen," she informed me. I chewed at my lip for a moment and then pretended to be interested in my feet. When I looked up, I saw the certainty she had melt. And then the realization hit her. "You've done this before, haven't you?"

I did not want to make her feel bad, so I just shrugged. "Well -I mean - I may have been there a few times," I admitted, turning to flee down the hall. In two vampire strides, she was in front of me, blocking the stairs. She looked overly disappointed in herself.

"I'm a failure as a psychic aunt," she sorrowfully claimed, looking to me acknowledge the fact. In her mind, she had failed the family by not seeing me sneak out. I carefully attempted to smooth a particularly stubborn spiky black strand of her hair and smiled weakly. When Alice was her bubbly self she verged on bothersome, but sad Alice went against nature; it was truly unsettling.

"No, you could never be a failure. You're just not...perfect. No one is," I said, borrowing my uncle's words. She looked somewhat relieved, as if they were the words she needed to hear. "...and just so you know, it has not been the least bit easy wolfing-up your visions. Ness and I have perfected that deceit to a fine art. You're a good psychic aunt; we are just bad girls," I added in a jest, showing my dimples.

She giggled at my response then raced down the stairs, bubbly once more.

"Well, I can be bad too! Come on!" she beckoned, prancing toward the garage. I giggled and clicked down the stairs in my stilettos.

Passing through the kitchen I spotted that cursed pillbox, white against the dark granite, the one thing that always was reminding me that I was sick. The pillbox and I, we had a strained relationship.

Growling, I trudged over, flicked it open and tossed the pills in my mouth, swallowing without water. If I did not have to do that every day, I might have been able to pretend I was normal. I tossed the case carelessly back on the counter and stalked out the garage door, slamming it behind me. Glad that bubbly Alice was waiting in her Porsche to cheer me up, I left.

The girl sure knew how to cut travel time in half. She was a speed demon, the kind you see being trailed by a dozen cops on the Breaking News reports. When the Seattle skyline appeared, my knuckles were white from being jammed into nervous fists.

When we were first leaving Forks, I explained how Ness decided to not come because she would rather play Scrabble with Jake at some 104 year old's birthday. Jake playing scrabble was a little far-fetched, but the idea was fresh in my head, compliments of _Mr. and Mrs. Dull_.

She had to know it was a big fat lie, but I just wanted Ness to have her night out. Plus, my gut feeling told me that Ness was not going to like the fact that I had involved Alice in things. Alice, who could barely keep a secret to save her soul! If I played this out right, neither of them would know about the other. And Leah, well, she would deal.

After several stoplights and bouts of congested traffic, Alice pulled up to Club Trinity in the heart of busy Seattle. Glancing at me nervously, she turned off the car. I could tell she was wondering what she had gotten herself into. Outside, I could see Leah holding our spot in the long line hopeful clubbers; the street was packed. The music seeping out from the club was already making my head buzz.

And then Alice zoned on me, her hands glued to the steering wheel, her eyes fixed ahead, most likely trying to envision if my parents were going to kill her for bringing me here. _A needless worry Alice_, I thought to myself._ What they don't know won't kill you! That's tonight philosophy._

"Alice! We can get out. Ziggy will park the car," I said, prying the keys from her little hand and sliding out the passenger door. I tossed them to the usual brash Valet parker. Alice emerged, slamming her door, then stomping around to the curb to stand beside me.

"You know the car-hop's name? How many times have you been here, young lady," she demanded, her voice hushed but stinging like a whip. I shrugged, then pulled a twenty from the wad of money I had in my clutch and handed it to Ziggy. Being his usual creepy self, he took the money, but not before kissing my hand. Alice shivered in disgust and then brandished a finger at the young, buff male.

"If there is so much as a bird dropping upon my car, I will make your childhood nightmares look like the parade that goes through Disneyworld everyday at noon! Got it, buster?" she challenged, poking him with a few more twenties. He put his hands in the air as if she was threatening to shoot.

She had no idea how silly she looked, a four-foot-something teenage girl bullying a husky, ex-gang member.

When she realized she might have over reacted, she tucked the twenties into his front pocket and patted his shoulder, granting him a remorseful half-smile. She then, tossed her Prada tote over her shoulder and stomped to the sidewalk, her little hips swaying in her tight designer jeans. I could not help but chuckle as Ziggy pasted his eyes to her ass and purred. For such a small person, she had a whole lot of spirit.

She, of course, walked to the front of the line. I smiled and scurried as fast as my heels permitted. Leah met us up front, as always dress to kill. It was a 'no effort-no entry' type of club. That was her only reason for dolling up - or so she said.

Leah glared and mouthed, "What the Hell is she doing here?"

Alice did not look to happy to see Leah either. Though at the same time, she looked pleasantly surprised by Leah's outfit. As Alice appraised her clothes, Leah looked at her with unadulterated revulsion.

Ignoring them, I smiled coyly at Marq, the head doorman - the man with _the list_. He smiled back and planted a kiss on my cheek.

"Miss Vivian Gray, aren't you a sight for sore eyes. When JP put your name on the list, I didn't believe it. It's been so long, I thought they might've thrown you in the lock," he said jokingly.

"They still might," said my aunt, the fake smile not fully masking her annoyance. Apparently, she was not very amused with my acquaintances. Marq quickly eyed her over and smiled wickedly, too wickedly.

"My... sister Alice," I supplied, keeping the introduction short, praying she would keep her mouth shut. She stood there, the little imp she was, and scowled. The vampire vibes were screaming _do not mess with me human_, and luckily Marq read the vibes correctly, because he stopped eyeing her up.

"Alight, ladies, get in there," he said, ushering us passed the door. "And behave yourselves!" came Leah's usual warning followed by his raspy smoker's laugh. Alice stalked so fast into the crowded building it was hard to keep up.

Before entering the main room, we were frisked for guns and ID'd. I, of course, was branded "Under 21." Since Alice entered before us, I didn't think she saw.

"I did not realize it was 'bring your vamp-aunt night' at Trinity! But that has to be the reason you brought her. Or is there another excuse?" she spit as the security man ran a wand over her.

"Listen, I didn't have many options; she knew something was up," I explained in a whisper. I could tell Leah wanted to nag me further, but the crowd crammed on Seattle's biggest dance floor distracted us both. The sound-system sent my heart fluttering in my chest and my adrenaline kicked it to full throttle. Tonight was a good night to come.

I found Alice through the doors. She was eyeing the ornately, flirtatious decor of the two tiered room with disgust. She looked back to me and Leah. A room full of sweaty dancers was apparently not her thing, no matter how classy the place was.

I could tell she was ticked. Maybe, I should have prepared her a little better.

"Let's find places to sit for a bit and then, if you're still among the living, you can do whatever else it is you do here," she said with a little growl.

At this point, I was totally regretting bringing her. I sullenly lead her up to the balcony that over looked the main room. We selected a sleek black table in a secluded corner and sat. I could tell Leah was totally thinking I had ruined it for myself, and I could not help but feel the same. Alice just sighed, sensing she was unwelcome company.

"You're not even sixteen. How does a person like you get into a place like this?" she mused aloud, wrinkling her nose at the human odor scenting the packed room. She searched Leah and me for an explanation, but we provided none. In fact, I could not help but look at the dance floor below, ignoring Alice completely. After a moment, Leah nudged me under the table and I looked up to see Alice's wide eyes gazing into the future.

_Shoot, she knows_, I thought to myself. I was sure she had not seen me flash it on the way in. But now, all hopes of keeping it had vanished. I had not thought this out at all. Alice was being anything but _cool_ about things.

"Fake ID in my hand now," she demanded, putting her hand face-up on the table. I unlatched the clutch purse and reluctantly dropped my key to freedom into her little marble hand. She looked at it, then raised her inky black eyebrows, an amused look on her face.

She then broke into energetic laughter. Leah and I exchanged a few nervous glances at the polar change in attitudes.

"It looks like you, Emm," she said between little giggles. I smiled, glad that she was no longer going to slaughter me in the public eye. Her face turned back to its normal, peaceful look and I relaxed even more. "Ohhh, Emm, you need to get a better guy to do your work. I mean, it _does_ look authentic. It's just that you are a far cry from 18. Who did it by the way? He should be shot for trying to play _you_ off as an adult!"

I looked at her uneasily.

_Ughhh, YOUR guy did it, Alice. Ness found his number and he did it for free. 'A family favor' he called it, _I retorted brazenly, but only in my head.

In actuality, I held my tongue and let the awkward silence linger on. The tension was too much for Leah. She got up and picked a tequila shot off a passing tray, resorting to what she did best.

Just then, I jumped in surprise when I saw Nessie coming towards us. Her perfect, lush, bronze ringlets bounced as she bounded up the stairs. She could have been on a hair commercial. She had on Jake's leather jacket, a white tee and some tightly fitted jeans. Her helmet was tucked under her one arm.

_Oh, shit!_ I thought to myself.

Her eyes had that love stuck gaze they got when she had spent time with lover boy. She was smiling at me, obviously not recognizing the back of Alice's head. She looked relieved, but not relieved enough to leave without telling me off.

"Hey, Emm, what's the deal! You worry me when you just leave a message and disappear like that. Jake and I have reservations, but I just had to check on y..." she stopped, her voice dropping off as she saw Alice.

The smile retracted and she looked to me, then to my captured ID.

Alice sat perfectly still for a moment, bending the card until it cracked. Then she turned her golden eyes to both of us. I knew what Ness and I were waiting for, for that silver phone to flip up to her ear and our screaming parents to come home to kill us personally.

We were so dead; the fake ID was a big deal. The bike was a big deal. Ness being here, in Seattle, without permission was a big deal.

"For _some reason_, I thought you were playing Scrabble at some old lady's birthday," she said, glaring at me. Ness looked a cross between caught and confused. "And do not even think about trying to tell me you're not with him, on _that_ BIKE. Ness, what would your parents say?"

She did not have an answer and I was equally speechless.

"And _this_," Alice continued, sprinkling the broken pieces of my ID in the middle of the table. She did not have to ask where it came from she could already hear the answer in one of her visions. "Jenks' services are to be used strictly for extreme circumstances. Not to get your cousin into clubs! What would your father think and Rose...she would have a fit if she knew!"

Nessie's eyes squinted in anger. It was easy to see who she was blaming for our being found out. While she scowled accusingly at me, I tried fending off her anger with a set of remorseful looks. I should have known better than to confide in Alice and bring her into this. Somehow, I thought she would take it better, that she would be impressed with how _adult-like_ we were.

I was very wrong. Alice was just as protective as the rest of them. I was so certain she would break her promise and turn us in. But then her face lightened, as if stirred by some great idea.

"So you guys are going to have to buy me off. Start the offers," Alice said, hardening her pixie features and tapping her fingers impatiently. _Of course we would resort to bribes; it was the Cullen way_, I remembered.

"We will go shopping with you every Friday for a year," Nessie put forward in a panic. I nodded and added on.

"...you'll know the truth from now on! And...and you can drag us to Milan with you in the spring and we'll not even complain!"

"I'll let you toss out my old jeans!" Ness offered. "_And_, I'll not tell Carlisle about your pointless QVC purchases!"

Alice immediately frowned.

"The last part was blackmail and therefore does not count. The rest I accept, on the condition that Emma stated,_ I _at least know where you are," she said, nodding her head and smiling. We nodded and breathed a sigh of relief, glad that she had decided not to tell our parents. Then Nessie got up and wrapped Alice in a warm hug, whispering a thank you into her ear.

Then she stood up and glanced at the door. It was like a gravitational force was beckoning her body to return to him.

"I got to go! Jake thinks I'm still in the restroom at the Italian restaurant down the street," she explained, kissing us each on the cheek. "Oh and you'll be so proud of me Emma, I tried pasta and did not spit it out," she announced proudly, before turning toward the stairs.

"You can have your fun with Jake, but when I leave Seattle tonight, you're going to be in the car. I'll call and pick you up, but you'll have to turn on your phone Ness. We bought it for you for a reason," Alice scolded lightly. I laughed as I watched her gracefully descend down the stairs and begin weaving her way to the back door.

With the room bustling with noise, it was only by her half-vampire hearing that she heard Alice and lipped a belligerent "OK." I smiled as she slipped out of the door.

"Let's hit the floor," suggested Leah, a smirk on her tequila coated lips. Alice nodded, somewhat less perturbed than she had been previously.

And dance we did. This was what I liked to do the most, dance until my ribs burned from breathing so hard. I could have danced like this every day for the rest of my life. Leah of course would slip away for a drink, but other than that we pretty much danced.

My graceful, little aunt may have been born in the early nineteen hundreds, but years of MTV served as a great dance curriculum. She was a sexy little beast and I couldn't help but enjoy this side of her.

After we had danced in the tightly packed space for an hour or so, I tapped Leah on the shoulder and told her I was going to freshen up. I weaved my way through the crowd to the restrooms. But upon finding a daunting line, I changed my plans and made a V-line to the bar.

"Can I get a glass of water?" I asked politely to the tall and attractive bartender. He looked really uncomfortable behind the elaborate bar, corned and caged almost. Maybe it was his first night or something, but my simple request made him grin willingly. He poured water in an exceedingly chilled glass, and had it in my hand faster than one would expect. The glass was so cold that my hand caused it to fog. He stood and watched me as I brought the glass to my lips, staring as if it were a novel idea.

_Hadn't he seen a girl drink water before?_ I thought to myself.

I eyed him suspiciously, then quickly swigged it down to avoid having his eyes boring into me while I drank. "Umm, thanks," I said quickly, turning to flee to the once daunting line. He looked as if he was not expecting me to leave so soon.

_Was he really thinking that after he eye-raped me, I was going to stand there and talk small talk with him?_ I mean he was attractive, but not so attractive that his gawking was forgivable. _Men can be so creepy,_ I thought to myself, as I shivered from the unwanted attention.

I found the restroom overly stuffy and I sensed claustrophobia taking over.

I slipped out into the main room hoping to find it better, but instead I felt faint and my head felt light. The booming sound system became muffled and my skin felt clammy to the touch. I had blacked out enough times in the past that I knew this was not a normal fainting spell.

_Alice. I needed to find Alice_, I thought to myself, my eyes scoping out the blurred faces of strangers.

My whole body felt like lead, my lower-half felt like I had been trudging through quicksand. I mean, I had never been in quicksand, but this had to be what it felt like. Something was wrong. I was not just going to faint, this was a completely different feeling.

Then, my knees buckled and my wooziness became crushing. Before I could sit down, blackness engulfed me, surrounding me from all sides.

The cold wood floor made a brutally hard bed, but unconscious as I was, I did not care. My breathing was staggered and my body felt lifeless, dead almost.

Then, somewhere far off I could make out muted yelling. I felt warm hands, whose I didn't know. If I would have had the power I would have been worried. My eyes were too heavy to open and my mind was cloudy. All I knew were hands and strange voices, urging me to wake.

Then I recognized the pair of chilly hands and Alice's lilting voice.

The next thing I remember was the hum of the Porsche and a screech of tires.

I pried open my eyes and realized I was lying down in the back seat. Alice was on the phone, talking too fast for me to make out the words. Who she was talking to, I could not tell: my parents, Papa Car, probably all of them. If my Mia and Popeye were still in Vancouver, they would hop a flight and be home in a heartbeat.

I let my heavy eyes flutter shut; I had no control over the situation now. My muscles were like lifeless sludge. I had not even the energy to protest.

My next conscious memory was my Popeye's voice. He was angry. No. He was furious, and poor Alice was trying to calm him down.

We were beneath an awning, the bright, unnatural, white-lights giving the false sense of daylight. It was familiar, as if I had been here in a dream or in another life. It took me a moment to recognize it as the emergency drop off at Papa Car's hospital in Sequim. That was a good six hours away from where we had been. It did not feel like six hours had passed, maybe six minutes, but not six hours.

I was still laying in the backseat, the leather sticking to my fevered skin. As much as I wanted to sit up, I could not pull my strength and courage together enough to do anything more than lay there. I felt cowardly letting Alice take the brunt of my Popeye's anger.

"Why is she dressed like a harlot, Alice? I thought you agreed to watch her, not assist her in crime. Damn it, I could crush your tiny skull I'm so pissed," he screamed and cursed and pounded his fist together. She whimpered some inaudible defense. I sat up fighting the dizziness and opened the door putting my feet over the side, swaying slightly.

"Popeye, it's not her fault. It's mine," I pleaded in a near whisper, too pained to raise my voice.

"You're damn straight it's your fault. What were you thinking, Emm!" he yelled at me. I noticed that Aunt Alice was now being comforted in my Uncle Jasper's arms and my Mia was running out of the hospital door pulling Papa Car alongside her.

He saw me and pushed past his irritated son and scooped me in his hard arms.

In that moment, I felt safe. I knew that he could make everything better and I trusted him to do so. My head was full of thoughts as I drifted in and out of consciousness.

_What was I thinking_? I had the best family a girl could ask for. I wanted for nothing and here I was, sneaking out just for kicks. Just because I was determined to_ live _and_ live it up_. I didn't even know why I was doing it. If it was to prove I was not letting my illness control me, it was _so_ not worth it.

For two days I found refuge in 'sleep.' I didn't want to face them. I just wanted to hide under those white hospital sheets, forever asleep. It didn't help that every time I felt I had strength enough to look around, my Mia's sorrowful face met me. And like a spineless fool, each time, I closed my eyes again.


	11. Retail Therapy

**Well everyone it has been awhile, a long while and for that I am truly sorry. I honestly have to send out one big, giant thank you to my new beta Katie. It is because of her willingness that posting was even possible. Believe me no one wants to read one of my chapters without a beta makeover (it's an ugly thing to behold). Katie has done a fabulous job. So big hugs to her and here it is.**

**Soooo if you have only read this story on Twilighted it may be the first time you have come across this chapter. If that is so please review. I miss my Twilighted bunch so much, but there have been so many complications posting there that I felt that I had to post elsewhere. Don't get me wrong I love the people and the site in general. Anyhow Im working on posting the rest over there as well, but it may not happen right away. Here it is, luvs!**

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A pungent mixture of disinfectant and excessively bleached sheets burned like fire in my nostrils. The mattress beneath me was so ridged; if it were not covered in bedding and if I did not have so much faith in my grandfather, I would have thought it to be a Mortuary table. My heavy eyes remained closed, as my mind drifted into the first threads of consciousness.

"Why does she smell so strange, Carlisle? This is not how my baby smells!" my Mia growled.

There was an undeniable panic in her voice. It made her words nip even colder than usual.

"Rose, she will be back to normal soon. Her GHB levels were abnormally high, but we DC'd it to a stable count. She can go home as soon as this evening," he assured her.

I unclenched my fists and let some the tension dispense from my stiffened posture. I sank deeper into the mattress, my assurance in my grandfather renewed and my faith rekindled.

"Is it her illness?"

"...No Rose, as you know GHB is a naturally occurring acid within the central nervous system. However, I have reason to believe the GHB found in Emmalie, was...synthetic."

"Synthetic, but Carlisle-"

"Rose, it will just distress you further. We will discuss it at home," he urged as if trying to keep the secret from me.

"Someone drugged her, didn't they? SOMEONE DRUGGED MY BABY!" Mia screeched.

I convulsed as her angry voice flooded into my ears like a violent wave upon the sand. Then I let the reality of what almost happened, bubble in my mind.

"Rose, lower your voice. Yes, it is true GHB is a drug that, when in high doses, acts as a sedative. It can be a date rape drug, but we know nothing for sure," he insisted, trying to calm her down.

She did not like this. I could tell she did not like this. She hissed in and huffed out in anguish, before turning sharply to leave.

"Rose, come back!" He ordered mildly, but it was no use. I heard the sharp staccato click of heels against linoleum fade, then my grandfather's sobering sigh. "Emmett, follow her and make sure she doesn't do anything foolish."

Out in the hall, over the monotone beeping of medical equipment and the shrilled voice of the charge nurse, I could make out my Uncle Edward's low voice. He was lecturing Nessie like he had never before. It was strange. I had never heard anyone speak harshly to her. Nessie was...well she was Nessie. I learned later that he and Bella hopped the first flight back. And they were not too happy with Ness. She was grounded, which was a first for her. It wasn't just the ID; it was the bike, the phone that was never answered, and the disregard for curfew.

The entire family camped out in the waiting room for a day until I was released. I did not come into the hospital sick, but I did leave it sick. While there I had caught someone's cold and my lungs now quivered, as if the air had become too thick, too permeated to take in.

On the way home my father kept sucking in breaths as if he was preparing to cuss up a storm, but after he would turn in his seat to face me, he would just sigh. I could tell he wanted to tell me off, but I was so exhausted that I could barely keep my eyes open to eat, much less be scolded. Once home, I stayed in bed with four walls and six layers of designer blankets to keep me company. I thought it to be a little overkill, but at this point no one was really listening to me. My mother insisted that I stay there until I was 100 percent better. She fluttered in and out, but shooed most everyone away.

The first day home, tension was high. I could not help thinking about Vanity Fair. William Thackeray knew what he was talking about when he said, "The world is a looking-glass... Frown at it, and it will in turn look sourly upon you; laugh at it and with it, and it is a jolly kind companion." I was pretty certain that I had smashed my looking glass. Instead of just one sour face, I had splinters of mirror reflecting dirty looks everywhere. I had made a mess.

My Aunt Alice and my Popeye were not on speaking terms; they now kept their conversing to strictly bellowing and screaming. He pointed a giant finger at her and she wilted in guilt, hunching her little shoulders, only standing up for me when the conversation came to it. I felt horrid, but was not at liberty to defend her.

I just assumed Nessie was mad at me too, for now she was under house arrest. I really did not get to see much of her. Then again, I'm not sure anyone was. I had heard that even Jake was limited to only dinner time visits, chaperoned by none other than the saint of restraint himself. Edward was being a dick, and that was putting it mildly.

In turn, Jake was coming down really hard on Leah; taking all the frustration of being separated from Ness out on her. In several venting text-messages, Leah had threatened to murder and castrate Alpha Jake. Along with the half-hearted threats, there were some pretty calculated plans to leave Forks forever. I told her to hang in there because as soon as my uncle gave Nessie her freedom, Jake's attitude would change back to tolerable. Presently, Edward was just being difficult, even for us. When not brooding in his music, he was rising to battle every one of my Mia's malicious comments. Bella tried to keep peace, attempting to be everyone's stronghold, the keystone in a crumbling arch. All the while, Alice was struggling to bring her hopeful attitude to the mix. But she was not used to anyone remaining angry at her for more than ten seconds. It was hard for her. My father, when not blaming Alice, was just being a crabby couch-potato, yelling at refs on the other side of the screen. And my dear Uncle Jasper had his work cut out for him. At times, he would slip outside to evade the unbearable range of emotions. Out my bedroom window I could see him pace in our front lawn and sigh deeply, like a swimmer coming up for fresh air after being submerged for too long.

My mother was the worst. I tried to apologize but with an eerie smile and a frigid finger to my lips, she hushed me and forbade me to ever mention it again. She doted and pretended like none of it ever happened, but only to me. When she left my room she was quick to let no one forget 'what almost happened'. When she was not with me, she was in the garage. Even her and my father were at odds. The day after I came back, I listened to them fight outside my door.

"Rose, let me through," he barked, struggling to keep his deep voice hushed.

"No, you're just going to yell at her. She has been traumatized enough without you busting her eardrums," she retorted, clearly blocking his way.

"So, you're not going to let me talk to my own daughter? Is that how it works, Rose?" he questioned cynically, an unyielding snort punctuating his disbelief.

"NO. I'm not going to let you scold OUR daughter for being a victim of circumstance!"

"A victim of circumstance? Rose, that's the biggest load of shit I've ever heard! She's out of control. If we don't do something now, we're going to lose her."

"Emmett, she needs to know we love her no matter what!" she fought. Her tone was even, as if she was reciting from some parenting guidebook.

"No, Rose. She doesn't need you to make her hot chocolate and coo at her feet. She needs someone to tell her to shape the hell up. What our daughter needs is to have her cell phone and credit card locked away in a bullet proof safe until further notice. She needs to be grounded. Why don't you get this?" he questioned.

"Emmett, she has been through so much just-"

"Rose, be a parent! If you don't have the balls to do it then let someone else."

"Emmett, I'm warning you! If you step one foot in that room..." she growled. Her tone was more terrifying than the words themselves.

There was silence for a moment before he resigned to mumbling under his breath. I'm sure he was swearing, but I could not make out individual curses. The words that I did hear were stronger than any curse and they stabbed twice as deep into my heart.

"We never should've done this," he muttered evenly, before he trudged down the hall and down the stairs. I listened to the floorboards creak as he stomped past, letting his words sink in. He did not have to say more; both she and I knew what he meant. He regretted me.

A surge of inexplicable fear rushed through me, leaving me hollow inside. It was like tripping in a pitch black room and falling until you hit the unseen ground beneath you. I had made him that mad? He regretted bringing me into his life?

My vision blurred in a swirl of hot tears. I only had a moment to collect myself so I did not appear as if I had overheard them. But I just couldn't do it. Instead, I turned my back to the door and buried my head in a silk throw-pillow, and sank deeper under my comforter. She entered the room so silently that I felt her frigid hands before I ever heard her. The mattress sank slightly as she added her weight to its undertaking.

I had steadied my breathing enough so that she could not see the sobs I was holding back. Her hand rubbed icy circles on my back.

"When you're feeling better we're going to spend more time together. I'm going to take you car shopping," she tried, her voice cracking with hints of emotion. I smiled at her attempt to make me happy.

"Yeah right, like you'll buy me a car," I flouted, dry throatily. She chuckled to herself, and then corrected me.

"Oh no baby, you're not getting a new car. I am. You will be getting a used but meticulously looked after car."

"Figures," I thought.

"Of course, you need to start studying the Washington State Road regulations; an hour a night should do it. Then you'll need to have a several hundred hours behind the wheel with either your father or I, before I would ever consider letting you get your license. Preferably me, I'm the better driver," she furthered pretentiously. "It will take you a year or two-"

"Mia, it takes most teens six months-not a year. And it is fifty hours of instruction with an adult-not several hundred. You're being a little demanding," I commented, trying my hardest to keep my annoyance fully veiled.

"Emmalie, do not push me. I'm trying my best to block out the fact that you were almost a bloody corpse in some God forsaken alley, and treat you like a young lady."

"Mia, I made a mistake, okay. You cannot keep me in a fishbowl for all of eternity," I shamelessly bit at her. My tone was sour and verged on disrespectful, but I had no intention of harnessing it. I was making a point.

"Emmalie, do NOT go blaming me for this. You're the one who almost got yourself killed, so lose the attitude," she growled, tucking a blanket around me with more force than necessary. I pushed all the blankets aside and bolted upright.

"I don't have an attitude and I was nowhere near dead," I fumed in utter defiance. She shoved me back on the bed and was tucking me back in before I could even protest.

"Emmalie, we are not talking about that-"

"Mia, I know you. You're not going to let me out of this room for another ten years. Did you ever think if you weren't so suffocating, I would not have to-?" I retorted, my tone accusing.

"What Emmalie? You would not have to sneak into clubs? Go behind our backs? You would not have to lie to us?"

Her perfectly shaped eyebrows dropped around her now charcoal eyes, eyes that were drained of their warm amber hues. I had to bite my lip to keep in all the angry words that were riling up with inside me.

I knew I was pushing my luck, but I was beyond caring. A resonant growl escaped her lips, her predator instincts surfacing. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and stormed out. I jumped up to follow her, but she was down the stairs, sprawled on the couch with her head propped gracefully on my father's left thigh before I even made it halfway down the hall. I stomped down the steps, stopping halfway to adopt the most defiant stance possible. She scowled in my direction, giving me the world's most glacial reception. Her eyes did not leave me; she stared relentlessly, silently demanding me to retreat to my room. Bella, who was curled up on the chaise longue, peered over her novel to silently observe our staring contest. Alice and Nana were perched on the kitchen barstools, going over a shopping list for our unnecessary garage renovation. They too casually glanced up pretending not to notice me, before whispering chide remarks. My father no longer looked angry; he apparently let it go and settled on letting his frustrations out via gaming. He and Uncle Jazz were deep into their Halo game, their eyes fixed on the screen, their bodies flinching at the virtual battle. My mother faked interest, but flicked her eyes back to me in question. She prodded me further with a single arched brow, as if to ask "what are you doing here".

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to have fun!"

"Was it worth it, Emmalie?"

"No it wasn't, but you're just so...soo-"

"Emm, I am finished playing mommy dearest in your melodramatic tale! And I seriously don't have the patience to deal with a disillusioned brat," she spat harshly, concluding her statement with an impatient growl.

"How ironic since no one seems to have enough patience to deal with you," I muttered under my breath. It was true and she knew it. She made life miserable for the rest of us at times.

"Well, lucky for you it's not too late. If I'm that unbearable to live with, then we can find someplace else for you to live," she announced with an eerie amount of enthusiasm, her eyes overly animated.

She smiled wickedly as she cocked her head to the side in her usual tou-shae attitude. Though insincere, the threat left me numb and I stared at her with an emotionless expression, a blank unaltered canvass. Did she really mean that?

All it took was a mere second, before the shame of her words took its toll. She looked away, again taking a new interest in Halo. If she did not realize her own mistake Nana, who silenced Alice mid-sentence to glare darts her way, would have clued her in. Alice too, shook her head in disbelief. It would have been the perfect time to let her wallow in her own guilt, to run off to my room and play the wounded victim. Yet I stayed, determined to make her equally hurt.

"Well I was considering running away but since you're willing to cooperate, then by all means," I said, hurling the spear straight back into her heart.

"Sure I'll cooperate. I'll even put an ad in the paper... 'Ungrateful, deceitful, soon to be 16 year old female. Prone to reckless behavior and childish tantrums. Call if interested'," she mused aloud. My Aunt Bella loudly shut her book and with a roll of her golden eyes, quickly vacated the room, too annoyed to stay. Nana groaned and Alice heaved a giant sigh. My mother ignored the disorder and continued. "And maybe that will make you _happy_."

"Yeah, I'll be thrilled and you will be too," I yelled. "YOUR LIVES WILL BE GREAT WHEN I'M GONE, HUH?"

"HELLLLL YYEEAAAAHHHH! You better believe it!" My Father boomed, jumping to his feet in an obnoxious dance of celebration. Jasper gave him a congratulatory slap on the shoulder, before looking at the rest of us. It took us all a moment to realize that my father was not responding to me, and it took him a moment longer to digest the angry stares coming from all directions.

"What? What did I miss?" He asked, confused and looking around, his hands raised in a defensive shrug. Everyone else just rolled their eyes, Jasper took a moment to reassess the emotions and get a better understanding of what was going on. My father finally noticed me on the stairs and keyed into my tears.

"What's wrong?" he asked looking around still semi-confused. I shrugged a little.

"Why don't you ask Mia? She is the one putting up ads to get rid of me," I said turning to head back up the stairs. He turned sharply and looked down at my mother who was now innocently flipping through Cosmo. He gave her an annoyed stare then stopped me.

"Awwww, Emma, you know she just says stuff like that. She never means it," he excused warmly, as if it made up for what she had said.

"Well, I...I...I'm sick of being a Cullen! In fact, I'd rather die than stay here. AND I DO MEAN THAT, with my whole heart!" I yelled from the top of the stairs. He winced slightly, his eyes revealing the hurt, before changing his approach.

"Emmalie, if you are going to be like that I think you should go to your room," he admonished, his arms folded over his chest.

"That's where I'm going!" I yelled brashly.

Downstairs it was mostly silent except for Alice.

"Nicely done you two! If you keep it up you'll get the parents of the year award for sure," Alice jeered, her voice intoning with a rare hint of sarcasm.

I sulked in my room while everyone else paraded around with their bad dispositions. They would clash at times and fights would erupt about the most mundane stuff, but for the most part everyone avoided one another.

Carlisle and Esme suffered it for a day, before even they were losing patience. Four days after I had returned home, Carlisle put in for some much needed personal time. He lightly proposed that he and the guys go on a big game expedition. There were reports of rouge rhinos in the Western Africa, and an overpopulation of wildebeest. Since we Cullens were all about creating a balanced and stable ecosystem, the men took up the cause. They left for Africa, venturing to the grasslands between the Serengeti and the Masi Mara, in hopes that hunting would heal their foul moods.

While they were gone, time seemed to cure things. After a day, Alice and my mother were speaking one word sentences to each other. And my mother was no longer hiding out under car-hoods. Bella pulled her head out of the book she was finding refuge in and began to play peace maker. My Nana's happiness returned as they began to patch up their differences.

But I was getting worse. My guilt multiplied by day and tripled by night. Still quarantined to my room, I suffered night after sleepless night, restless to make things right again. I removed pillowcase after pillowcase, all too damp with salty tears to last another night. My eyes were eventually too dry to cry anymore.

After a week of self-loathing, I awoke one night and decided to leave my room. I could hear my Mia and Nana outside my window and the silence upstairs told me it was vacant. So I tiptoed down the hall, jumping the creaky boards that I knew by heart. I continued down the stairs to find my loveable little aunt. She was curled up on the couch absorbed in late night infomercials. I went and cuddled up beside her. It was the first time I had talked to anyone since the incident.

"I'm so sorry, Alice. I've made everyone upset at everyone else and the only one at fault is me," I sobbed into her lap.

"Oh sweetling, we're just having a spiff. Your mother and I have had worse than this and gotten through it. Everyone has. It will pass eventually," she voiced, rubbing my back.

"You don't hate me Alice?" I asked, sitting up.

"Never," she intoned like a Shakespearian actor. I smiled at her silly impersonation. "So what do you say to cheer each other up, we buy a bunch of things we really don't need and then ship them back in thirty days," she suggested impishly. Alice was like my very own retail therapist.

I nodded and wiped the last of the tears from my swollen eyes.

We were having a great time. So far we had ordered a miracle cream that diminished wrinkles (even though Esme was the oldest and had not one wrinkle), a super suction vacuum, a car key location system, and a Hip-Hop Abs workout DVD. I giggled as Alice called the numbers on the screen and placed the orders. Her bubbly spirit was like medicine to me.

"Do want to get the Lean-Mean Grillin' Machine?" she asked as we watched, enchanted by the man and his burger making.

"Naaahhh, I'm a vegetarian," I reminded her. She looked at me and beamed in agreement. Then she flipped to a different channel.

"Why?" she asked after a moment.

"Why, what?" I questioned for her to verify.

"Why are you a vegetarian?" she asked. I was surprised by the question, because it was the first time anyone had asked me. It was one of the diet decisions that had been completely mine, not forced on me by my mother or the illness that ruled so many of my decisions.

"I have a reason...but you'll laugh at it," I cautioned before I went on. She looked at me un-persuaded. "...I guess I sort of figured that I would abstain now because I would have no choice but to kill later."

She looked at me, her enchanting eyes clouded with bewilderment. Sometimes it felt as though I was being dissected when she did this. Perhaps she was surprised at me thinking I would one day be like them or perhaps it was the death thing. In some ways it scared me. She was the one who knew if it would come to be. She had never even hinted at my future and I had always been too fearful to ask.

"You never told me you were a pacifist," she stated. I smiled lightly, glad she had not commented on my plans for the future. Pacifist... I suppose given who I lived with it was rather unusual.

"I don't know about pacifist. It's just that death scares me so much; anything suffering and _dying_ is like a reminder. So I just don't..." I had run out of words. I glanced at her hoping that she understood. She nodded encouraging me.

I let my mind wonder back to our conversation before I gathered my courage and let the words flow forth.

"So am I wasting my time abstaining? Am I ever going to be one of you?"

My heart fluttered as I waited for her answer. The fact that her response was not immediate had me internally berating myself. I don't know why I asked if I could not hear the truth. I simply was not ready to die. Ten more years, I reasoned. I could deal if I knew I had a least ten more years. She did not blink but stared wordlessly at me.

"I've looked Emm, believe me I've looked. But I can never really see who changes you," she stammered in an apologetic way. It spilled from her mouth like some awful confession, as if it had bothered her as much as it bothered me. I pulled away from her golden stare to hide the disappointment in my eyes, disappointment that was pooling over into tears. She rubbed my shoulder gently, my glassy eyes pushing her to continue her confession. "But I've been haunted by a crimson-eyed version of you since the day Emmett carried you out of that car. If I close my eyes I can see it now. It always scared me as you grew older and began to look more and more like that girl in my vision. I didn't tell anyone, not even Edward knows. What scares me most is everything else about that vision seems so foreign. I can't tell where you are or who you're with. Try as I might, I can't figure out any details about your changing."

"So you see me changed?"

"Yes...sometimes I do," she whispered painfully. I tried to decipher her sudden withdraw from the world, the dead look in her golden eyes. Then I understood. She saw an alternate ending as well, an ending that she was not going to share with me.

We sat for a moment embracing the silence, as Alice lovingly stroked my arm. It felt as if we sat there forever. Then she shifted slightly and glanced at Esme's ancient grandfather clock.

"Emm, you best go to bed. I'm already in hot water with your mother. Let's not push her over the edge," she piped in her musical little voice. It was strange that her tone was devoid of the gloom once there. It was as if we had never had that conversation. I was not as easily settled.

"Aunt Alice I know I'm old and all but, would you tell me a bed time story?" I asked a little embarrassed. She curled closer to me hugging me tenderly.

"I'll tell you stories as long as you'll let me," she promised sweetly. "Now which story will it be?"

"I want to hear about when you and Uncle Jasper first met," I requested in a gleeful whisper, my eyes shut, my sprit very much awake. She sighed, her cold breath hitting my shoulder.

"But you've heard it a thousand times before. Don't you want to hear how your mother saved your Popeye from the bear, or how your Papa met Nana Esme, or your favorite: how Edward and Bella came to love one another," she suggested helplessly.

"Oh Alice, I love all those stories. I really do. But there is something about yours that I just love," I said. She looked a little nervous. I always felt that there were pieces of her story she withheld from me, things she feared telling me. I had a feeling it had to do with the subject I abhorred most: Death. I just figured it had to do with their deaths. She thought that it would bother me hearing about her or Jasper dying. I mean it wasn't like they ever fed on humans. My entire family was harmless in that way. They could never take a human life, not even a subliminal notion suggested such a horrid truth.

She looked at me and began the story that I knew by heart. I smiled saying the tale in my mind with her. She was at the part when Jasper says, "I'm sorry ma'am" when she stopped and gasped out, "Garrett!"

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**Chapter End Notes:**

**Hopefully, updates will become more regular, without such lapses of time between. Thank you all and remember to review. I'm going to do better about responding, so everyone who reviews from here out should receive a reply. Thanks guys and I will hopefully get the next chapter up before Easter weekend.**

**Hugs AJ**


	12. Midnight Summit

**Author's Chapter Notes:**

**I had an idea as I was getting ready to post this chapter: Instead of the typical review, I think it would be helpful to me if you asked me questions about the story...things you don't quite get, questions you may have about Emm, questions about what is going to happen, even questions about why I chose this or that as an author. **

**Not only would this help me as a writer, but it would make responding to reviews all the more fun. I'm going to shoot for 25-30 before the next update. Perhaps that is overly ambitious, but I don't mind. **

**A warm thanks to my current Beta Katie. So here is the next chapter!**

**The next one will be up in a more timely fashion...hopefully!**

**Hugs AJ**

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"Garrett!"

The exclamation jostled me from my blissful, dream-like state. It was a name that did not belong in the retelling of my Aunt's love story. I eyed her in slight confusion. Not only was her posture abnormally wooden, but her warm, amber eyes were wide as she gazed past the darkened hall into nothingness. There was a fear stricken look etched into her normally cheery face. Her lips pressed into the thin line of a frown before opening it as if in a state of shock.

I had known her long enough to know that she not only had a glance into the future, but she was frightened about what it entailed.

"Aunt Alice?" I inquired, trying to pull her from her lurid trance. "Alice!" I all but shouted, shaking her bony shoulder. Her gentle, honey eyes focused back into reality as she turned to me, momentarily collecting herself. If Uncle Jasper were here, I would have run to get him. But he and the men were all hunting a sea away.

Alice sprung up from the sofa and dashed away. It was the mad swirl of colors and the slamming of the back door, which gave away her direction at her vampire speed. I let out an anxious sigh as I followed her at a more human pace. My toes curled as I stepped barefoot onto the dew beaded planks of our freshly stained back porch. The crisp September air enveloped me, rushing through my cotton pajamas to chill my clammy skin. It was wonderfully refreshing after two straight weeks of sweating fevers. Besides the pale moon, which floated like a shining coin above, I could make out the lights from the cottage, like fireflies in the distance. It was the only evidence that told me Ness and her mother were at home.

Down to my left, Alice stood behind my Nana Esme and Mia, who were both picking the grubs off Nana's prized roses by the calming moonlight. They looked like quite the pair with their matching paisley garden gloves and their summery dresses. I was pretty sure that only loonies and vampires gardened after midnight.

With her face contorted into a revolted expression, Mia plopped one last culprit into her bucket and glared up at me.

"Are you trying to catch another cold, Emmalie? Get back into the house," she chided, pointing her gloved hand to the back door.

"But Alice had a vision," I maintained. I did not want to be sent off before all the excitement was over.

"Was this vision of me killing my only child?" she asked scenically. Alice stepped forward to speak but she seemed distant; as if somewhere far off, searching the confines of her mind for a remedy to the future.

"I saw them execute Garrett. He is being tried as an offender of our race." Her voice was frigid and abnormally monotone and the statement itself demanded a moment of silence. Horror set in on each pale face, apprehension spreading like a rampant winter virus.

"Oh, poor Kate! She will be heartbroken," empathized Nana, in her maternal pitch. My Mia sat down her bucket and began to remove her gloves from her slender hands in a precise manner.

"Surely the Volturi cannot just execute him because he poses a threat," she contemplated aloud.

"The Volturi from Aunt Bella's story?" I interrupted trying my best to keep up. Often times I felt as if they talked around me, in an 'ignore the human' sort of way. Exasperated, she tossed down her gloves with a little growl.

"In the house! Now!"

I stomped away dejectedly up the stairs to the back door, but she stopped me. In a conceding sigh, she shifted her stance.

"Emm, if you want to help you can fetch Bella and tell her to bring Ness. We'll just make it a family meeting," my mother proposed. We all looked to Esme, as the second in charge behind Carlisle, to get her go ahead.

"Sure. Why not have a family meeting?" Nana half-heatedly approved. I smirked and started toward Bella's cottage, not needing a light since I knew the paths by heart.

"I don't think so! Coat and shoes and then you can go," she demanded, but then she revised her plan, "Coat, shoes, scarf and gloves!"

"Mia you can't be serious! It's not even October yet!" I retorted with all the sass I could manage given my still feeble voice.

"Emmalie, don't you dare go there with me. You clearly don't know how to dress yourself, so I'm intervening. I don't care if it's not stylish or accommodating. You'll wear those things or you'll go straight to bed," she stressed in a no-nonsense tone. My Nana Esme nodded when I looked at her for support. Grumbling to myself, I stocked back inside and came out feeling like an Eskimo. When I got her nod of approval, I trudged down the leafy path to the cottage.

I didn't knock, I simply walked in; Aunt Bella didn't believe in locking doors. Once, I had asked about it and she had said something to the extent of burglars being the least of her worries.

As I entered, I was surprised to see my Aunt Bella standing behind a wall of rising steam. In front of her was a mammoth wok, situated on the mostly unused stove. She was humming contently as she sliced a canary yellow pepper at lightning speed.

"Aunt Bella, what are you doing?" I inquired thoroughly bemused. To my left, the TV was paused on some Home and Garden cooking show. She just kept on working, dancing a little to her own tune.

"Cooking," she responded ecstatically, as she tossed the peppers in and swirled the wok.

"Yes I see that…but WHY?" I asked. No one ate in this house; why the heck did she need to cook.

"Oh, it's just something I do when your Uncle Edward is gone," she enlightened, pushing play and glancing back to some bald guy on the TV.

"You mean you go crazy," I jested. She made a pouty face at the suggestion of her being crazy and playfully hurled an oven mitt at my head.

"I do NOT go crazy… most of the time," she amended as if remembering something. Immediately, I felt a wave of guilt, knowing what she was referring to. I had heard the stories. "I decided a long time ago, that one day I was going to whoop Edward's perfect butt at something. I first tried baseball but even with me as a vampire, he's still better. Actually, that goes for all sports. Then I thought I'd just read more books than him, but since he has been around since the dawn of time, it would take me forever to catch up." She went on smiling at me, like she always did. She was so genuine it was impossible not to love her.

"So you're going to beat him at cooking?" I concluded not wanting her to go on about her perfect husband forever.

"Exactly!" she confirmed. I laughed energetically. She was so much better then she made herself out to be.

Unceremoniously, I shed my coat and plopped down at the bar stool adjacent to her.

"So, are we going to have an Iron Chef show-down anytime soon," I questioned, sniffing the exotic aroma. She gracefully dished a portion of food onto one square plate, another unused wedding gift. Looking down, I expected to find an excuse not to try it, but I smiled when I saw tofu. She noticed my surprise and gleamed.

"Since you're going to be the judge, I've been practicing all vegetarian dishes," she said proudly, handing me a fork. I laughed at her and tried a bite. It was tasty but a little on the chewy side.

"If you give me an A on my English paper, I'll tell Uncle Edward his food is repulsive," I promised impishly, still gnawing on my first bite. She considered the idea then shrugged off the fleeting fantasy playing out in her head.

"Hmmmm, I'll pass. There's no victory in cheating; besides, he'd know," she concluded after a brief smile grazed her thin face. After depositing the cookware into the stainless steel sink, Bella flicked off the Home and Gardening channel.

"So, you do realize its way past human visiting hours," she pointed out washing the scorching wok with her hand, unfazed by its heat. Suspiciously she peered over her shoulder at me.

"Oops, I forgot! Nana is having a family meeting. Mia says to bring Nessie too," I shared, taking another bite to be polite. Bella looked surprised and then looked at me with more suspicion. Since I was Emmett's daughter, pranks were not beyond me, so I went on.

"Alice had a vision about that guy…uhhh…Garrett? And then Mia was talking about the Volturi-" I stopped; I could not bring myself to say the word execute; it was not a word I could dwell on easily with my nature and all.

Aunt Bella instantly went to wake Nessie, her face mirroring the war of emotions within. I looked down and noticed the stove was still on. Even as an immortal, my aunt was still a "trouble magnet" as my uncle called her. I flicked it off and quickly tossed the rest of the stir-fry into the garbage disposal. Reluctantly, I went to gather my unneeded winter gear, muttering choice words as I bundled back up.

"What, did winter come over night?" jest Nessie with a look of gleam on her face. She rubbed her sleepy eyes and pulled a jacket out of the hall closet.

"Oh cut it out, you cold blood. It's not like you're a stranger to overreacting parental demands," I teased, snickering in return. She smiled at me and let a little giggle escape her lips.. Her smile the spitting image of her father's.

"Come on you two. I'm sure they're all waiting for us!"Opening the door, Aunt Bella slipped out into the frigid Forks air. I looked at Ness and smiled remorsefully; it was the first time I'd been alone with her since our big fiasco.

"Ness, I'm so sorry. I didn't think about you being found out and…I'm just sorry."

I let the words spill from my mouth, hoping she would not hate me for bringing it up.

"Oh Emm, don't be silly. I knew we'd get caught one day. You can only elude a Cullen for so long," she said putting her slender arm around my shoulder and shutting the door.

"Yeah, but three months," I objected, referring to her grounding. "It must be killing you to stay away from Jake." At that suggestion, she let out an impish laugh and put her hand to my cheek; the only exposed skin she had access to.

I immediately saw visions of her sneaking out and meeting Jake in the forest. The two of them, holding and kissing one another, bathed in the silvery glow of the moon. These were intimate moments she usually kept to herself. Then I saw him on one knee with a small wood-carved box in one hand. He opened the box and exposed the most beautiful ring I had ever seen. Oh the ring. I screamed in excitement. I knew it was only a matter of time. He was bound to propose, but I was still shocked. I looked at her and saw the joy on her face and the extra gleam in her eyes and wrapped her in a congratulatory hug. Just then my Aunt Bella looked back at us from the yard; we were still 75 yards away.

"What's gotten into you two? Stop dawdling; you're going to piss of Rose," she scolded lightly.

"Ahh, Aunt Bella...human," I reminded her with a slight attitude. They were always forgetting how slow I could be.

"Oh right," she said nodding. But just then Ness had me on her back, and before I could blink, we were in the living room. Everyone else was already seated and talking in hushed voices when we came in. I thought it strange that not one of them were on the phone, usually it was like a reflex. My mother looked slightly agitated.

"Remind me not to send you on errands anymore!" she admonished with a counterfeit snarl.

"Yeah, sorry we took so long," I added apathetically. Bella promptly situated herself on the couch next to the worried little Alice, rubbing her back reassuringly. Alice stared dead ahead, her head in her hands. In the dimly lit room their golden gazes seemed to glow. Nana just sat there with her perfect posture, motioning calmly for Ness and I to sit with her. I quickly took the vacant seat, after I peeled away the winter clothes and tossed them to the floor. That prompted Alice away from her daze for a moment.

"Pick it up! In this house we do not throw Burberry on the floor," she said a little snippily. I could tell she was tense, so I complied and then sat a second time

"So what is the plan?" Aunt Bella asked innocently, breaking the tension. She looked to my Mia who was fiddling with her hands, a human habit that she never got rid of. Nana was holding Nessie's hand in one of her cold grasp and mine in the other. I smiled when I noticed Nana's smile grow big, knowing that Ness had let her secret slip through her fingers, literally.

"Well, we thought we'd leave it up to you if we should call the men or not," my Mia started, looking pointedly at her newest sister. I knew it was hard for her not to tell my Popeye something, but Bella had bombed the lying aptitude test in the past. "I know if Edward hears the word Volturi and Americas in the same sentence, he'll have us all on an Arctic cruise in an instant. The over protective jerk face he is," my Mia added coldly. But Aunt Bella just nodded, balancing outcomes in her mind. This felt wrong. We had never kept anything from the men. Papa Car was our leader. My stomach started to churn at the idea.

"We have to go to Kate. Comfort her and keep her from doing anything rash," Alice said finally. She was definitive about that.

"I couldn't agree more," said Nana. "We cannot interfere with a trial, but we must be there for them. They're like family and they've come to our side in the past." My Mia nodded solemnly as did Bella; their loyalties were firmly grounded.

"We're going to Cousin Ton-tons?" Ness asked excitedly, referring to the cousin I'd never met. I had become acquainted with Carmen and Eleazar when they had visited on several occasions. but the rest of his coven, I had yet to meet. Everyone looked at her and shook their heads. But it was my Mia who spoke.

"If you're in this room and still have a pulse, your butt is staying home. End of story," she announced firmly. Nana Esme nodded and then volunteered.

"I'll stay with the girls." All nodded at the suggestion.

"I would also prefer it if Leah spent the night….if she's fine with that. It would make me feel better," said Bella, looking at Nessie. My Mia rolled her eyes but did not speak up. She knew that the 'wolf-watch' was for our safety alone. And while she did not like the form it came in, a little extra precaution could not be turned down. It was Alice who growled at the suggestion of such an addition.

"I knew you were going to say that. Bella please don't do this to me. I cannot stand the thought of being completely sightless to the girls' future. It will be torture! A cruel and unusual punishment," she bellowed in a state of panic.

"Which you completely deserve," muttered my Mia, still a little ticked off about "The Incident".

"Ladies, that's enough," Nana Esme warned, reigning in their attention with a clap of her porcelain hands.

They all stopped. "Bella you go home, gather your stuff and put call the Clearwaters'! I'll phone the air line. Rose, you pack for both you and Alice, you know how she over-packs. Alice, darling, just sit tight and continue to keep an eye on things," Esme ordered gently. "And girls, as soon as we get them on their way, you two can go to sleep; sorry to keep you up."

She knew too well that we would want to see our mothers as they went on their way. Patting Ness and I on the shoulder, Esme rose gracefully from the couch. Serenely, she went to her phone, resting on the antique desk in the foyer. In an almost robotic manner, everyone mimicked her composure and ran off to do just as she asked. Ness and I sat there watching as Nana placed the call in, searching for grounds to give into fretfulness.

For a moment, I thought I saw a hint of distress appear in her amber eyes, but when she saw us watching, she instinctively winked and put on her plastic smile. Ness and I confirmed our thoughts through a single heartfelt glimpse into each other's eyes. We both understood two things: the first was the night was going to be long indeed. The second was anything that caused an eternal, unbreakable vampire mom to fret, was worth fretting over.

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**Chapter End Notes:**

**Reviews are the best!**

**I've been known to pull plot ideas from reviews so leave nothing unsaid. Oh and don't forget to shoot me a question. **

**Thanks guys!**


	13. Empty House

**Here it is. Thanks to all of you who are leaving reviews! And a big thanks to my beta Katie!**

** *Also I would like to continue with the questions. A question instead of a typical review; it can be regarding anything relating to Emmalie..the story plot...or me! **

**This will really help me with my writing and will give me some unique response. **

**I think I will post my favorite question and answer it in my next AN. Again I am looking for 30 at least. : )**

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The goodbyes were brief and included more advice and warnings than actual goodbyes.

"Emmalie, take your vitamins and avoid going outside please. No more trips to the hospital this month, alright?" she said, pinning back her wavy golden locks with a quick bobby pin, dawning her blue, silk scarf.

"And Ness your grounding is still in full effect, so don't try anything. Understand?" Bella warned, pulling on the ratty, brown overcoat that Alice despised with a purple passion. Despondently, Alice came down the stairs looking as though she was lost. She was wearing her purple pea coat with the big, red buttons and her spiky hair was poking out of the bottom of her little, red cap.

Nana's amber eyes glanced over each of her daughters and for a moment, it looked as if she was going to burst out in tears. I knew it was impossible, but her whole face screamed of sadness.

"Remember, you're to avoid confrontation with the Volturi at all cost. You're going to help with the aftermath, not stop a storm," she recapped, eying each one of her daughters sternly. "Shield up. Eyes open," she prompted, looking at her two youngest. My Mia, who could not handle sentiments of any sort, grabbed the suitcases and went to load them in the car. Bella shifted nervously from one foot to the other, as Nana gazed tenderly at the two. Even I could tell she was rethinking things.

"Maybe, I should call your father-"

"Nooo!" chimed Bella and Alice, waving their hands. "Things will be fine mom, I'm sure." Bella promised confidently.

"Honestly mom, do you want to go whale watching for the sixth time in four years," my Mia argued, returning from warming up the car. Esme smiled at them, then nodded.

"Alright, just promise you'll ring me once you land. No call and your father will be phoned immediately," she threatened, pointing her finger commandingly at Alice.

"The men will be back in less than a week. If all goes well, we'll be back before they even know we're gone." Alice spoke with a certainty only she could possess.

"-And Leah said she'd be fine with camping out here. She'll be over in the morning. Seth said he would also be on the lookout," added Bella, trying to assure Nana. They had covered all bases; the plan, for the most part, seemed watertight. My Mia hugged me tightly for the umpteenth time that night and I couldn't help but feel guilty about our fight prior. Nana flipped on the porch light and ushered her daughters out, granting each a kiss on the cheek and whispered words only they could hear.

Then were gone, leaving Ness and I sitting on the stairs by the front door and Nana staring out the front window, watching the road long after my Mia's car had disappeared into the darkness. For a moment, I wondered if Ness and I were going to have to pull Nana from the window, but she turned on her heels and gave a half-smile.

"Renesmee Carlie Cullen! Why didn't you tell your mother that you're engaged?" she scolded in a faux-sternness, her face radiated pure delight, gone was the sadness a moment prior. When Nana became excited like this she seemed to glow like the stars themselves. I smiled, and looked at my cousin, who was chuckling lightly to herself.

"Because I'm not engaged," she replied simply, looking down at her slippered-feet. We both gave her the 'yeah right' look. "...well, not officially. I told Jake that I wanted a bigger ring," she joked, cocking her head to the side, her eyes dreamily staring past us at the thought of him.

Nana smiled, knowing that Ness could care less about the number of carrots in a diamond. "No, what I really told him was that I wanted to wait to make it official until my dad came home. Dad would never forgive himself if the first time he left the country since I've been born; I went out and got myself engaged."

Nana walked over and lovingly cupped Nessie's face in her hand and kissed her head. Nana was all smiles now. "Ness, I've never been so proud to be called your grandmother. You've grown up into a beautiful young lady. But remember to look after yourself too. Life's not all about protecting your parents' feelings, believe it or not."

Ness stood to her feet in mild protest.

"Nana, I _was_ thinking about myself. I want all of you here when we announce it. I would not have it any other way," she said, holding her chin up. Nana beamed.

"Alright then, you two, up to bed," she said, just as she did when we were young. But as we climbed the stairs, I realized we were no longer young. Ness was simply playing a part and while I was happy for her, I could not push away the feeling of loss.

That night I slept and woke a dozen times. My dreams were all clouded with bloodless executions and heartless monsters; the unknown faces of the Volturi, faces that I hoped I would never see. I had never hated a single soul; not my real mother who had abandoned me, not the man who beat me in the streets, no one. But those ones I could hate. I just hoped I'd never have to encountered them, because I was sure they would not take kindly to me; the human raised by vampires, numb to werewolves, and so unattached to the mortal world.

I wasn't certain that death even scared me anymore. When life plays you the death card, but you know you can trump it; that one day your family would pull you off death's doorstep to live happily ever after; there is nothing to fear, right?

I was so naive then.

Early the next morning, I woke to the mattress springs gently crunching as Ness arose from the trundle bed. I covered my ears to drown out her alarm clock: a howling wolf. I was still drowsy from the late night, so I tried to drift back to sleep. The sweet autumn draft seeping through the window, reminded me that my favorite season was here. I smiled at that. After about thirty more minutes of restless tossing, I flung off my Egyptian cotton confines, donned my thick, purple robe and trudged down stairs.

In the living room, Nana was hemming Alice's new jeans. Her caramel hair was fixed in a tight ballet bun and she was wearing an informal red dress. She was so focused on her task that, despite her vampire abilities, I was certain she had not seen me.

"You're up early as well," she commented, proving me wrong. I smiled and went over and wrapped her poised shoulders in a hug.

"Morning Nana!"

Her nimble fingers moved faster than any sewing machine, but even then she could afford to look at me. Happily, I skipped to the kitchen to make some breakfast.

"Ness left you some scrambled eggs that Jake didn't finish," Nana called, with a little laugh. Nana was letting Nessie out of her grounding. I was glad; I hated to have her sad. On the stove, I found the left over eggs and zapped them in the microwave for ten seconds. Humming as they heated, I looked about the kitchen. I placed the skillet in the sink to wash later. Unenthusiastically, I took the time to take my meds as well, gulping down four pills in one swallow, something that always earned me a rebuke from my mother.

"Oh and Emmalie...your Popeye called and he wants you to give him a call back," she informed, still working intently. Taking one more sip of water, I went over to the counter where my cell phone was charging and pressed speed dial.

"Popeye?" I asked after being greeted by an obnoxious hello.

In the background I could hear the stampeding of hooves, like rolling thundered; and to accompany it the earsplitting squawks of startled birds. I could only imagine him stopping mid-hunt, wildebeest dashing around him to answer his cell. The mental image had me laughing

"Babe, what's your mother up to?" He curtly asked, the background noises faded and I heard him huff crossly. For a moment, while I tried to get my act together, I was speechless.

"Nothing I know of. Why?" I started innocently, hoping he did not see through the facade.

"Oh, your Uncle Edward is just being a paranoid pain in the ass hemorrhoid. He is so damn sure Bella was lying about something last night on the phone, that he wanted us all to get our asses on the first red-eye flight home," he offered candidly. That was not surprising, Bella was the world's worst liar. I twiddled my golden brown hair as I searched for further lies.

"She's just trying to surprise him by learning to play her lullaby. Don't tell; it's to be a surprise," I justified. Nana Esme's hot glare met me from the other room; she hated lies. I knew for a fact that as soon as the men-folk returned home, she was telling all.

"So how's the African safari," I inquired, trying to change the subject. He laughed freely, his voice booming through the phone.

"It's going well, babe," he blissfully admitted. There was a brief bout of restless silence.

"Uhh Popeye? I got to go," I said not wanting to keep the act up forever.

"Em, wait!" he said before I could disconnect. "You promise you'll call if anything is wrong?"

I hitched my breath; for some reason, that lie seemed larger than all the others.

"Yeah, sure, Popeye," I replied softly, withering with guilt.

"I love you Em, and I miss you so much."

"I miss you too."

"Be good and take care of yourself, baby girl," he said in his fatherly tone.

"Will do," I assured. "Love you." And I hung up, sighing to myself. We met eyes for a moment and cheekily rolled my eyes, already dismissing her unspoken reprove. Slyly, Nana began to recite unfamiliar proverbs about lying, making my guilt grow by the minute. I growled in frustration and went back upstairs.

That night Leah, Ness and I were camped out on our oversized, leather couch. Leah was still a little weary of being in our home but with just Ness and I, she seemed at ease. Nana had moved onto her next outdoor task, digging up the bulbs for winter. It was late, later than my Mia would have allowed me stay up. We had just watched an Audrey Hepburn marathon on the Classic Movie channel, and were now laying there bored out of our minds. Leah seemed relieved that the marathon was over. It was clear from her strained expression that she thought Breakfast at Tiffany's would be an effective way to interrogate an enemy.

"Ness," I pondered looking at the ceiling.

"Hmm?"

"Is Jake going to live forever like you?" I was almost scared to ask the question. She however was not frightened by my question.

"I asked Billy the same thing. He is pretty certain that as long as a werewolf's imprint lives, the wolf will as well. That and as long as he shifts. Everything so far seems to prove his theory. Jake has not aged a day, where as some of the wolves have matured subtlety and are no longer shifting," she shared. "Because of what I am Jake's body will always feel the need to shift, effectively making him immortal as well."Leah nodded to confirm the belief. I sighed in relief.

"I'm glad. I could not imagine you without him," I admitted truthfully. We were all pensive for a moment. The house was dead silent, only the soft creaking of the house and the scraping of branches against the windows caused by the mounting breeze.

"How about you two? When are you going to fall in love?" Ness asked casually, as if it was something that anyone could do. It was almost as if she didn't realize that we weren't all born with our lovers in the next room.

"How 'bout never?" answered a cenacle Leah. "I've done that before and it landed me in a heap of shit." Ness and I both looked at her sympathetically. "No, loving someone means you have to put yourself out there to be screwed. And I'll never do that again, it's too fucked up. How 'bout you Em," she asked not liking all the attention.

"I will not fall in love," I said, laughing at the thought of it. "I'm not planning on living long enough to grow my boobs, yet alone find a soulmate," I confessed confidently. Ness sat up and glared at me for saying it.

"Emmalie you know Papa Car will not let you die," she pressed firmly. It wasn't that I doubted that. It was just I wasn't certain if my Mia would let it happen without a fight.

"Ness, I know he'll try, but I'm weak. I doubt I'd survive the turn," I lied, sitting up and curling my knees to my chest.

"Bull. My mother made it. Nana made it. Your mother and father made it," she listed with gusto. Ness was so adamant about happy endings, that the possibility that I might not make it, she had yet to entertain.

"They were hurt, not sick," I reminded her.

"My daddy was sick," she fought determined to convince me. For a moment, I tried to decipher if it was _my_ happy ending that she was so adamant about or_ hers_. Me dyeing would put a damper on her fairy tale perfect life, was that what she was so worked up about?

"Yes, but still, I'm different. I don't just have some virus that they can fight with a vaccine. I'm terminally ill, Ness," I reminded her. She was frustrated with my obstinate stance, so she just glared her brown eyes turing a shad darker.

"How 'bout we stop talking about biting and shit? Seeing as I'm supposed to protect mortals from just the thing," Leah reminded lightly. I could not help but smile at her.

"Oh you'll never believe what I found," Nessie remembered, changing the subject. I could tell by the gleam in her chocolate eyes that this was going to be good. She sat up and prepared to tell her story.

"Yesterday, Nana asked me to take her old sewing kit down to the basement for her and guess what I found," her voice was so childish. I was excited; there was no telling what you could find in the house of century old vampires and the basement was one of those places. As a child it was a 'no-no room'. I had only been down there once and my mother didn't let me snoop about. The whole third floor was the same way, kind of off limits; Nana and Papa's suite, the guest room (Uncle Edward's old room) and the library were all up there. While I'd never been in it, I was pretty sure it was where some pretty juicy stuff happened. My Uncle Jasper went there when he said he needed to "take care of some things". From it came things like birth certificates, passports and school transcripts.

"Photos," she exclaimed gleefully. Oh this was good. Photos were rare, since Papa Car didn't really approve. Most of them had been destroyed in the past simply to avoid leaving "footprints". It would be dangerous if someone got a hold of them. I knew that Esme was most likely the one to hoard them away. Her family photos were probably too sentimental for her to burn.

She led us through the back of the butler's closet, removed the faux wall, then descended down the narrow spiral stairs to the drafty basement. The place was almost impossible to get to if you didn't know how. Tiptoeing across the cement floor, she pulled out a dusty wooden picture box from an overflowing, yet organized shelf. She was laughing the whole time, with good reason. Upon opening the box, all was confirmed. They were so funny, still in dresses and ties in the fifties and bellbottoms and printed tees in the sixties. My mother and Alice made the coolest looking flower children ever, still it was laughable. The photos from the seventies were, by far, the most humorous. Blackmail material to be sure; my father with side-swiped hair and tight jeans and Edward in the ugliest sweater-vest known to mankind. Carlisle and Esme were the most consistent in dress. That was until the eighties. Back then they all looked like a Fresh Prince rerun. This amused us for hours. Even Leah cracked up as we went through the box.

"Do you think we should tell them when they get home?" I asked mischievously.

"Oh hell no, these need to be preserved and if I know your mom, she'll want them gone. No, first we need to scan and save them to multiple hard drives and back up disks. Then we'll get some really nice frames and hang them up around the house," she suggested. Yes, I knew that my father, if he were not a victim of this prank, would be proud. I took one picture and stuffed it in the back pocket of my jeans.

We stayed up and chatted about everything and nothing well into the night. When Nana came back in, Ness and I faked sleep. She curled at one end of the sofa, I at the other, still in jeans and t-shirts. Eventually, we did go to sleep, although I'm pretty sure Leah left to make a loop around the house.

That night I dreamed about my sweet sixteen, African safaris and a cure for AIDS. I was perfectly happy. My birthday was only five days away and I knew that Alice had been planning it for some time. I was sure the guys were making it home for my party, most likely with a surprise or two. After my party there would be the engagement party for Ness and Jake. Everything in my life was perfect for the time being.

The next morning, Nana roused me with a gentle shake. At the end of the couch Ness was deep asleep, her angel-like features serene. Leah was curled up on the adjacent loveseat, her long body crammed into too small of a space. She looked almost funny. I seriously doubted that she was comfortable, yet she was out. I looked up at Nana after rubbing my heavy lids. Her face was stern, making me wonder what I did this time.

"Emmalie, do you care to explain why I had to open the gate this morning to let in the Fed-Ex man?" The maternal stare down I was receiving could have burned holes through plaster walls. Sleep still had my mind lagging though; I didn't know what she was getting at.

"He must've had some packages?" I tried, knowing it was an incorrect answer.

"Indeed he did. Some with your name on them," she said severely.

"Our infomercial orders!" I said sitting up so fast I was dizzy. I went over to the door where a dozen or so packages sat. Nana looked even more frustrated with my excitement. She stood behind me with her hands on her hips, rolling her eyes.

"Why in God's good name do you need a Super Spider-Vein Concealer? No one in this house needs any of these things. Alice has gone too far this time. Carlisle's going to have to have a talk with her."

"Nana, it's her own money," I disputed sweetly. But she just looked at me with her cross face.

"It isn't the money issue Emma; it is the fact that we have no place to put all this useless junk. If Alice gets a place of her own, she can fill it to the ceiling with junk, but I cannot stand it. I'm already making weekly trips to Good-Will as it is," she tossed her hands into the air and walked up the stairs. I could still hear her ranting about this and that.

I turned to the bubbling laughter from the couch.

"Sounds like Nana is going to have it out with Alice," said an amused Nessie. I smiled. It was seldom that Nana got upset over anything. When she did she was still so sweet, it was funny.

Nessie and I played with our new toys for the rest of the morning, Every time Nana walked by us assembling something else, she would start her ranting all over again. Eventually Ness and I roused Leah who through a silk throw pillow at us telling us to shut up. We, of course, interpreted this as an invitation to pound her with pillows, which we gladly did. She, of course, retaliated with the like. Leah could throw a pillow so hard it left welts. The three of us waged war on one another, laughing carelessly. Suddenly, we all heard Nana's feet skipping down the stairs, so we stopped and tried to look innocent. But when I saw her I could tell something was terribly wrong. Her face looked dead with worry, her brow was furrowed as if deep in thought and she had the phone tightly clutched against her ear. She was giving quiet "yes's" and "no's" to whoever she was talking to. Then she thanked them and shut the phone. Her eyes searched the room frantically and she went to get her coat, throwing it on.

"Your grandfather's office was broken into and vandalized last night. The police believe it to be some form of hate crime, for only his office was broken into. Your papa and uncles all have their phones off; they are probably in flight. Jasper said something about meeting up with Peter in upstate New York; I bet they are heading there before they are catching the flight home. Either way, the chief of police has asked me to come down to the station in Sequim to look at some shots the camera caught of the burglar, see if I recognize him."

She was shaking as she put on her leather driving gloves. Nessie and I went to her side. She was so uneasy whenever the men left home, something like this put her over the edge.

"Do you want us to come with you, Nana?" Nessie offered, putting an arm over her shoulder. She looked appalled at the idea. But she gave Nessie a gentle kiss on the cheek.

"No, love, I think not. I would feel much better with you here at home," she guaranteed, her voice so sure it sounded like a recording. "I cannot even bear the thought of you in the same city with whatever deranged idiot did this."

"Stay inside. I'll call you and tell you what I find out. I promise I'll be back before dark." And with that she stepped out into the fog and cold. Two days ago it was sunny. Forks weather is so fickle, I thought as Nana swerved down our long drive, in Carlisle's black Mercedes.

* * *

Chapter End Notes:

**Reviews make my world go round! Love to hear from you! : )**


	14. Compromises

Author's Chapter Notes:

Sorry about the wait,

: )

hope you like it and you **have to** review this one. I want to hear your thoughts and predictions. This is a critical chapter.

AS ALWAYS the thanks goes out to Katie who has done a wonderful job with this.

* * *

After the hum of her engine had droned away, Ness rushed to the closet and put on her little skin-tight denim jacket. She had that joyous look on her angelic face.

"I'm going down to La Push. Jake and I will be back before dinner. Call me if Nana gives you any updates," she insisted, giving my cheek a tepid kiss, then running out before I could object.

Shrugging, I turned to Leah who sat on the couch her ebony hair sticking up every which way. Leah just shook her head, struggling not to scoff at Ness's lovesick tendencies. I sighed and

offered her a late breakfast.

Leisurely, I went about toasting some whole grain English muffins and whipping up some omelets from egg substitute. The whole time my mind was racing, disturbed by the events. I had

never been without a least one of my family members at home. I felt kind of strange, naked almost. Leah allowed me my silence, staring apprehensively out the window at the forest's

edge as she gulped down her food. Overcome with seclusion, I picked up my little phone and tried my Popeye's phone, my Mia's phone, even Alice's. No one answered.

Disheartened, I phoned Aunt Bella who answered, but sound very preoccupied. In the background, there was a continuous stream of painful screams that nearly muted all other audible

noise. It was the screaming of someone in real agony, the kind of cry that makes you close your eyes and cringe inside.

"Em, honey, is everything OK," she asked pointedly. The feminine hysterics were coming to a screeching crescendo.

"Uhhh, Yes I..." but she cut me off in a crisp voice.

"Em, hun, we really have our hands full can I call you back," she asked pleasantly, despite her current predicament.

"Ummm…sure," I conceded sheepishly. While I had never met Kate, my heart hurt for her. She had lost so much, her mother, her sister, now a lover as well. It didn't seem fair.

I tossed my phone on the couch and growled both in frustration of Kate's misery and annoyance of being unable to reach anyone.

Leah did not seem to notice my distress, for she was intensely texting someone. I could only assume that she was informing her brother of the strange happenings going down "in the

bloodsucker's lair". Seth had not spoken to me in weeks; he was trying to teach me his own lesson by giving me the cold shoulder. He thought my parents had failed in disciplining me so

he assumed the role himself. It was that notion itself, which made me care less if we spoke again or not.

Heaving a sigh, I decided I would go upstairs and freshen up; a change of clothes and a hot shower.

"Le, I'm going to hop in the shower. You can order a pizza or something if you're still hungry; I'll pay. The TV is yours," I said tossing her the remote and turning to go up the stairs. She

immediately ceased her manic texting phase, abandoned her phone on the granite counter and plopped down on our plush Italian leathered sofa.

I was a partially up the stairs, when the room reverberated with high pitch electronic beep. Startled, I jumped, then calmed, as my mind deciphered it for what it was: the intercom. It was

sort of strange to have visitors. Charlie and Sue, Seth and Leah, remained to be our only regular guests. Sometimes Billy stopped by to see Jake who seemed to live here most the time,

but that was it.

Silently, I went to the Fourier and looked at the monitor. One the screen there was a shiny black Lexus, the rain beading on its waxy coat and rolling off in glossy streams. The darken

window rolled down to reveal Eleazar's pale face.

Blinking, I looked again, almost taken back by his presence here; after all my mother and aunts were at his place comforting his daughter. Shouldn't that be where he was as well?

"Hello," he called in his raspy voice, a voice that was undeniably his.

"Hi, Eleazar, Papa Car is out. In fact…everyone's out," I informed him speaking through the speaker in a clear voice. We had installed the system years ago when the electric gate was

added. I had only used it on occasion; it was another one of those useless indulgent purchases that somehow eased the anxiety of certain angst-ridden family members.

"I know, I came on his behalf and on theirs," he amended, yelling to be heard over the beating rain. What? Why would he do that? Questions filtered through my head, but I opened the

gate none the less.

Slipping on a pair of my favorite ballet flats, I went out to our wet front porch, Leah hissing violently in my ear the whole way.

"What in hell are you doing? You just let anyone in while you're home alone?" she barked bitterly, her harpy-like attitude showing its ugly head.

"Leah, don't be stupid. I'm not home alone. And Eleazar, well he's like family." Leah huffed angrily, obviously finding that argument invalid. "You know Kate's coven, he's their leader," I told

her as I waved to the car, splashing through muddy puddles in fast approach.

I didn't know for sure what news he was bringing, but I was sure glad to be in the company of someone I knew. I continued to smile, but my spirit was somewhat thwarted when he

emerged from the car alone; Carmen had not accompanied him on this trip I realized. In the blink of an eye, before I could wallow in any disappointment, he had joined Leah and I on the

porch. We both hung back from the porches edge taking refuge from the almost wintry rain that was now pelting at a more invasive angle.

"Emmalie dear, time is short. We need to evacuate the house," he rashly explained grabbing my forearm. I resisted his icy grasp and pulled back toward Leah, who stood guardedly in the

door way her eyes narrowed and critical.

"Why," I gasped in terror.

"Your uncles and father, even your grandfather have been put under arrest. The Volturi are coming. They even ransacked your grandfather's office to find him," he explained pulling me

urgently to the car. I felt faint and my gut contorted painfully, as the icy drops doused my already goose-bumped flesh. Leah growled, jutting from her safe place out into the icy rain.

"Where's Nessie?" His voice was harsh, but I was still speechless, trapped in a distant nightmare. Leah came to my side, her sneer making Eleazar take a step back.

I could tell she was on the brink of shifting, when a handsome man got out of the car, pulling her attention away. His features were undeniably vampire, too beautiful to be anything else.

"Nessie's at La Push," I confided softly, chocking out the words while swallowing back bile. "Nana," I cried, realizing she could be in danger.

"She's just fine. Carmen is with her and they're heading to my house. We'll meet her there," he said his voice so convincing. I looked back to Leah, who while not intimidated by one,

stepped back a safe distance from two bloodsucking strangers. Moisture pricked at the rims of my eyes and hopelessness set-in.

"Come child. We'll get Nessie on the way there. There no time to spare! Come," he beckoned sweetly shuffling me in the car. But before he could shut the door the handsome man spoke.

"That one must come too," he demanded pointing unswervingly to Leah. He spoke in such a way one could tell people rarely said no to him. Leah looked disgusted at the very suggestion,

almost sickened. She was not planning on letting them take me, yet alone her. But Eleazar's engaging voice spoke before she could refuse.

"Yes, you too are in great danger. Let us take you to your land, there we'll pick up Reneseme," he called motioning for her to come. Leah just shook her head; her feet firmly grounded her

eyes pleading silently with me.

"Leah, please I could not bear to live with myself if I left you here to face them alone. Come for my sake," I called frightened. She reluctantly came, getting in the car, her fiery blue eyes

staring them down the whole time. She did not look at all happy about her being in a car with them, shifting in her seat unnervingly.

"I'll drive," stated the handsome stranger. He was tall my father's height and build, probably even his "age". His skin was faded olive with a chalky pallor and his hair thick almost an

iridescent charcoal black. It hung in gentle waves that almost reached his broad shoulders. Eleazar must have noticed my eyes fixed on him because he spoke up as we sped out of the

drive.

"This is Garrett," he said motioning to the man. I looked at him again. I had heard Bella's story repeatedly and could have sworn that the Garrett, whom I never met, was blonde and

French. This man looked neither. "He escaped," Eleazar added when he noticed my unrelenting eyes carefully scanning this man who had just climbed into the driver's seat.

Ruber burned beneath us as we sped off at a high sped.

When we reached the end of the drive,instead of waiting for the gate to open, Garrett busted through as if he was playing Grand Theft Auto. I was thrown in my leather seat, only Leah's

hard arm kept me from face-planting into the window shield.

"Are You CRAZY?" I screamed as he swerved onto the wet graveled road. Over my shoulder, my home disappeared behind the wall of protective pines. Nana sure wasn't going to be happy

about the gate. Then again Nana may never come back here, I reasoned with myself.

"Put on your restraint harness human and be silent," he demanded in a tone that edged on evil dictator. Instead reprimanding Garrett on his ruthless tenor, Eleazar faced front: silent and

without an explanation.

Leah growled at them then pulled on the handle to the door, but the child locks kept her from busting free. Even with super werewolf strength the well-made door would not budge.

Meanwhile, our driver was pushing 90 on these small country roads, swerving around the tight bends undaunted. His disregard had my hands trembling, and my trust faltering.

We headed southward and then the winding road bended to the east and we flew across the narrow bridge over the partially flooded Calawah River. La Push road was coming up on the

right. And Garrett was now going double the Forks speed limit. Oh where was Charlie when you needed him.

"You turn up here," I tried, directing him to La Push. He however did not seem to be slowing down.

"Right here," I informed pointing, yet again.

But we never turned.

We just merged on to North 101. I realized then that something was very wrong. I sat quietly, salty tears trailing down my flushed cheeks. Leah just scoffed at me, rolling her eyes then

taking control.

"Where are you taking us bloodsucker?" she screamed at the top of her lungs.

He just laughed a heartless laugh. I looked at Eleazar with tear filled eyes, questions of betrayal silently spilling forth. But he offered no answers, simply looking out the window,

shamefaced. I knew then that the man driving was not Garrett.

"I don't understand," I whispered in shock. Eleazar turned around.

"Emmalie there are times in life when you have to make compromises. One day you may understand. I simply could not hear Kate cry like that for all eternity, so I bargained for his life and

her happiness. You may learn to forgive me but I'll never forgive myself. I truly am sorry my dear," he pleaded with me.

I felt the blood rush out of my face, out of my fingers. I would have fainted were it not for the new found rage that was fueling me. He had traded my life for Garrett's. It did not make since

why would they want me? Leah? I noticed that the car stopped with a jolt and a boy on a bike was crossing the street, his father waited for him on the other side with an umbrella. They

were so unaware, so oblivious. What was my family going to think when they came home and found me missing? Would Alice "see" this happing or would the presence of Leah blind her

completely? A wave of loss came over me, a loss of my family, my home, and my friends. I was beyond helpless. Iced fingers tapped impatiently on the wheel adding to my rising anxiety.

Leah however was not giving up without a fight. She pounded her hand on the glass, causing it to crack under sheer force.

Immediately, "Garrett's" handsome face turned around and snickered.

"Let's not be naughty _ware_. You do not want to anger me," he promised with a heinous snarl. But her hand beat the window again. Red eyes looked at us in query; he was overly annoyed

and confused by her struggle. It was as if he could see how helpless we really were.

Visually I pictured my cell phone there on the desk-Leah's there counter. Neither of us could even call for help. I could only hope she was going to be able to mentally communicate with her

pack at some point.

For a moment I was sure Leah was going to shift, but she did not. Not before the vampire turned swiftly in his seat and injected her with a drug of some kind. She slumped down lifeless in

her seat. My chin began to tremble, but Elezar spoke quickly to comfort me.

"She's just asleep Emmalie. She is unharmed," he promised locking eyes with me assuredly. I nodded and tried to still my fluttering heart with forced breaths.

"Eleazar, just tell me one thing. Is my family safe? My Popeye, my Uncles they aren't under arrest are they?" I just need some comfort, a small piece of sanity to take with me to my grave.

"Yes, your family is fine; it was all a ruse Emmalie. They are all safe. You may trust me on that," he pledged seeing my desperation. It was strange that relief came from that small

assurance but it did.

"And why me? What do they want with me?"

"Emmalie, Carlise and I both dwelled with the Volturi for a time. In that time, I was in Aro's debt. To pay off my dues I used my talent to pick out those that would be of use to him. I sorted

though thousands of humans. I've not sought humans in that way since….. You're the only thing I've stumbled upon since that has…..well… intrigued me."

"Aro's a collector of many things, human-one of them talents," added the ungodly-handsome-but-evil-one.

"But_ I_ have no talents. I'm mediocre in just about everything. And hopeless in others," I protested hoping they would change their mind. "I'm a lousy pianist. My penmanship is sloppy.

Math takes me longer than most people. I make decent grades, nothing to brag about. My parents tell me I'm incurably insubordinate and at times careless. I can be really selfish and hard

to live with…..I can dance but I always modify the choreography- other than that I'm pretty much a screw-up. Not to mention my short life expectancy. Why _me_?"

The handsome face scowled over his shoulder again in thought.

"Enough of the question and answer time, it is time for the human livestock to rest," he announced coldly. In a moments time a needle injected into my right arm, and I joined Leah

slumped over and unmoving, a ragdoll in someone else's games.

* * *

Chapter End Notes:

Review. Oh come on you know you want to!


	15. Kidnapped

Author's Chapter Notes:

Hey guys!

* * *

I was vaguely aware of where I was, but I felt like I was trapped in a dense, white fog-like the time I came out of having my wisdom teeth removed. The rest of my memory came in blurred

snapshots.

Fairchild International Airport's 'please no smoking' sign ...Leah sloped against Eleazar under the overhang...me in the stranger's cold arms...Eleazar driving out of the terminal in his

shiny, black Lexus... the slow-paced security check... a passport being pressed into my fisted left hand ...the flight attendant saying, "fasten your seat belts"... the evil smile of the

cherub in the row next to me; beside her a frightened, mousy girl...the rumbling of takeoff and then the ghostly drone of classical music.

"Sir, would she like a blanket and pillow?" an animated voice asked. My eyes fluttered at the question and for a moment I forgot where I was. My head was situated against something

frozen and stonelike. I shivered unconsciously.

"No," denied a dark voice. It was a cold bark, not the polite refusal most people give. It was not the voice of anyone I knew. Where was I?

I sat up in a jolt, embarrassed to find my head in my captor's lap. Warily, I took in my surroundings and recalled the horrid nightmare I was living. His handsome, cold face took note of my

obvious despair, warning me not to try anything stupid with a clenched smile.

The flight attendant, a red haired, middle-aged woman with too much makeup, just stared at us disapprovingly. She must have thought I was one of those child brides stuck in an abusive

relationship. She looked at me for a moment in forced pity and said, "I'll just set this right here in case you change your mind." Her hand was visibly shaking as she sat the package at his

feet like a skittish dog. She almost withered under his intimidating presence, but she turned and sauntered off in time to regain her self-righteous composure.

I swiped up the package and ripped out the thin airline blanket and threw it around my shivering shoulders, trying to calm myself. My posture was ridged with anger. I glared out the

window, the tension mounting. I wanted to start screaming at him, but I was afraid he would take me to the restroom and use me as his mid-flight snack. I stared out the small portal of

an opening, the white clouds forming an endless mountain range beneath us. My thoughts veered to my family as I regretfully palmed my pocket. My cell should have been with me. There

was no speed-dial without it and I didn't leave a note. How would they know? And once they did, would they come to rescue me?

"My family's going to cut your body into one inch squares starting with your genitals and then invite the entire town over for a bonfire. When they're done burning your pathetic carcass,

they'll dance around on your ashes and spit on your charred remains," I claimed, trying to convince more myself than him. He however was amused by the threat; his pale lips turned up

and his eyes partially concealed beneath his dark shades seemed to be laughing.

"Are you sure you're a Cullen? Brutality is not one of their defining family traits," he whispered, his breath fanning upon my collar bone like cold draft seeping through a cellar. Flinching

away, I glared down the partially lit aisle, keeping my eyes guarded from his smile that was all too alluring. I hated him; I wasn't certain I could be by him a second longer. He was entirely

too cocky, too arrogant and too pigheaded. From my extensive reading of Cosmo, I knew exactly what type of man he was: asstard.

Escape came in the form of the window which I gazed out of, fuming with resentment. What were they going to do to me when they found out that I was really talentless? Drink me? Use

me as bait?

"My name is Demetri by way," he introduced, as if I cared who he was. Apparently the man didn't appreciate the concept of the cold shoulder. I growled at him, just glancing over my

shoulder so I could shoot him with my death rays. He thought this was comical as well, for he chuckled lightly. Further aggravation sizzled in my being, like hot coals fanned back to their

fiery life. Entertaining my evil side, I began imagining my captor dying in different agonizing deaths. But this only lasted so long, because I knew Papa Car would have been shamed by my

thoughts.

"Why is it that you do not appeal to my senses?" he demanded, roughly pulling my arm and sniffing it several times. Appalled at his rudeness, I flinched away, cuffing my bruised arm

protectively.

"Go to hell and stay there," I muttered, wishing I could punch his boulder of a head. But his big eyes filled with light and he decided to taunt me further. He eased back in his ridged airline

seat, giving a counterfeit sigh of comfort and assessed me further.

"My, my, are we not lively? We will have to wean you of some of that spunk. No one takes a brat to meet the Maters," his accent was smooth and exotic. I hated myself for shivering at

that god damn voice. My mother had told me once that vampires were to be alluring. It was an advantage of being a predator. That was the reason.

I turned around to notice that there was a young woman also sharing in his amusement. Her face was round and without human flaw. She had an almost childlike beauty. Her eyes being

big, her cheeks full like a porcelain doll's. I had always found porcelain dolls scary: cold and dead. This one was no different.

She stared at me with hidden crimson pupils, eyes that were barely covered by dark brown contacts.

"What say you Jane, after the layover in Vienna, you and I switch traveling partners? You could teach her some manners," he proposed, his voice still chiming with wicked amusement.

Cringing at the name, I sat back in my seat. She must have enjoyed my little fright, because she laughed as well. It was a shrill laugh like window chimes in the wind. Threateningly, she

ran her nails on the arm of the small women she was sitting next to.

"No, but thank you kindly for the offer. I'll teach her manners when we get there. I do adore a peaceful flight. My mute little pet here suits me just fine," she seductively stated. I took that

moment to eye the other captive. She was a thin, frail thing with fawn, brown hair. Freckles covered the bridge of her pointy nose. She was silent and scared. Perhaps she was truly a

mute.

Just then my sight was obstructed by a cart selling a plethora of tax free perfumes. It made its way down the aisle and we were silent for a moment. My mind flashed to Leah, and I jolted

up to look for her among the row of seats. Among the passengers there wasn't one head that matched her charcoal locks. I was going to jump over him and search for her in frantic frenzy,

but a sharp tug pulled me forcefully to my seat.

"Sit down girl. You're going nowhere," he hissed in my ear, his iron hand still upon my arm. I pulled my bruised arm away indignantly. He then sat back once again.

"Where is Leah?" I pressed, getting not only his attention, but the attention of annoyed business men everywhere. Until now, he had been overly cautious about bringing attention to us.

My outburst had heads turning in our direction. His hand clamped over my mouth, and shushed me in a wickedly sweet tenor. He chuckled lightly, selling his actions for playful when they

were anything but.

"So help me girl, you will behave or we will make the last moments of your life miserable," he growled, only for me to hear. Tears burned in my eyes, regret in my stomach and sorrow in my

heart. I was going to die. He had just confirmed it.

When his hand lifted, I took a big breath and let a sob seep out. Tears now flowed freely, trailing down my flushed cheeks. He looked at me unsure of what to do, as if of all the things he

expected me to do, he had never considered this. Offering no privacy, he just watched me cry. It was as if he had never seen tears before. Jane too just watched, her eyes filled with what

appeared to be envy. They looked on almost painfully.

"Madame," he said, motioning to the red haired attendant who had come to see if she could help. "If you would fetch us some..." but he was caught up by my weeping, he stared with his

brows low. She looked at me, again the business men sighed.

"Some tissues?" she offered, filling in his blank.

"Yes, right away," he confirmed, hasting her with a snobbish wave of his hand. Not more than a moment later, he shoved a box at me. I took it gladly, but it did not come without orders.

"Wipe your eyes immediately and cease your caterwauling. Your conduct is inappropriate," he scolded in a hiss-statements that could only belong to an era a century ago. They meant

nothing to me, I just cried all the more. "Discontinue this at once!" But my sobs grew louder.

Demetri looked shocked and then looked to me, his mind searching for remedies. My unceasing upheaval had him changing his tactics. I could tell that he was pulling at straws, desperately

wishing everyone to mind their own business.

There was no telling what he was willing to do to deflect this unwanted attention.

His voice was quiet, so I barely heard him. And the words were did not fit him.

"Youcanstop weepingbecauseit willbejust fine," he muttered sulkily. It was slurred together and mumbled but he had said it.

Jane tossed in her seat in pure disgust.

Sniffling, I dabbed at my sore eyes.

My crying stopped; I was not sure if it was because I had run out of tears or he had really comforted me. After that I was exhausted and I curled up into a light sleep, beneath me a

reluctant stone pillow. The false sense of warmth overwhelmed me as I dreamed of a thicker blanket being tucked around me. The warmth seemed so authentic that I slipped deeper into

an undeterred sleep.

I woke a second time when someone reached around me and secured my seatbelt. Not too soon after I was jostled by the grating of the landing gear upon the runway.

Embarrassed yet a second time by my sleeping conditions, I shot up when the attendant announced our arrival over the crackling speaker. Jane got to her feet even before the seatbelt

sign turned green, propelling the small women in front of her with small barely discernible shoves. Demetri preceded to unbuckle first him then me.

I stood compliantly and followed him out, no other escape before me. No carry-ons among us. Reluctantly, I walked the funeral procession down the aisle into the terminal. There was a

convenient store pedaling foreign cigarettes, a bakery selling huge croissants and danishes, along with a small pizzeria selling over-priced spaghetti dinners.

I walked, dragging my feet like any good prisoner. The giant guard followed me at a close distance. At one point I contemplated running but his frigid hand stopped me mid takeoff.

"Not a wise choice," he reminded, his voice smooth. So I followed Jane, his hand still around my wrist as if I was a badly behaved child.

"Who is Popeye?" he curtly asked, letting Jane march ahead into the crowd.

At first, I felt like being smug and not answering him, but I gave in.

"My name for my father," I said flatly, wondering silently where he had heard it.

"You called for him in your sleep," he explained, reading me better than I cared to admit.

I looked away embarrassed by the topic. He however, did not seem to notice. I do not know what I expected, he was heartless by nature.

"Your friend is coming. She shifted on us shortly after Eleazar dropped us off. She is being brought by crate. Fully tranquillized mind you," he informed as we quickened our pace to catch up

with Jane. I do not know if this was said to cause me to be further disturbed or if he was telling me as a kind gesture. I just nodded, soaking up what I could of my morbid little reality.

Jane was standing in a line, her hand on the wrist of the taller girl. It was somewhat amusing because she appeared to be with her older sister.

I looked up at the sign and noticed we were in a the security check to board the 11 o'clock flight to Pairs

"Paris?" I inquired in surprise.

I was sure we were going straight to the death trap in Italy. He did not confirm our destination; he simply pushed me in front of the man with the detection wand, down the boarding

platform and on the next plane full of uncaring faces.

The uncertainty of where I was going and what was going to become of me, laid heavy on me, making breathing a chore. All I knew for sure was that I was alone in this. 

* * *

Chapter End Notes:

Review!: )

Oh and just so you all know there is a chance that I may start posting again on Twilighted. I will see how that goes...

hugs

AJ


	16. Kiss of Death

Because I am behind on posting on Twilighted- I will have to wait till I'm caught up so I'm posting at the right time- so I'm not way ahead here and way behind there. My wonderful beta Katie came up with the chappie name. She has been lifesaver for me, so a huge shout out and thanks to her.

Here it is: )

* * *

The most liable culprit was jet lag or exhaustion from emotions but for whatever the reason, I fell unconscious on the second flight. My revival was brisk, for Jane awarded me a bruising kick to my right shin to pull me from my slumber. My comatose body was lugged off the third plane, arriving under the cover of darkness in the city of love. Demetri escorted me to the airport egress. At some point he simply tossed me over his shoulder and I returned back to the haven of sleep. I awoke to find myself asleep upon the frayed back seat of a musty smelling taxi. My pale captor sat stiffly in the passenger seat in front of me.

The driver was a large, heavy man with a scraggly, unshaven look but his posture was such that he looked small. He kept nervously glancing to his right at Demetri, whose face was frozen in a deep frown and his eyes were fixed forward. A separate taxi was closely trailing behind us, mimicking our sharp turns down the narrow Parisian streets of the Le Marais District. The wet brakes squeaked to a halt as we arrived outside an old Bourgeoisie townhouse.

The taxi door flew open and an icy hand on my neck pulled me onto a brick walkway into the cover of the night. Jane emerged from the other taxi, dragging the same meek girl. In the golden glow of a streetlight I could make out an old residence. The house was large and quaint, while maintaining somewhat of a gothic charm to it. The large windows were frosted and the mammoth door was a glassy, red French Rosewood. The house whispered of neglect: the windows were boarded from the inside and weeds were boldly sprouting through crevices in the stoop.

Jane led the way not using the front door but entering through a narrow side door in the adjacent alley. I was pushed forward into a swell of darkness, up the cracked stone steps and though the narrow door. I stumbled and fell on my knees, scraping them raw on the aged and splintered floor but not caring.

A match was lit and seconds later a dozen candles soaked the dark room with a golden light. A shadowy figure sat in a high-backed Victorian parlor chair. In the corner I could see a petite woman tied and gagged, lying on her side. Her muffled cries were muted as she squirmed. Her blonde hair was disheveled and makeup streaked down her face but at one time she probably looked attractive. Unlike the mousy girl, she had a look of rage on her face.

Demetri came silently from behind, pushing the mousy girl through the threshold, then slamming the aged door.

"Felix, I trust you've not been kept waiting long," Jane inquired curtly, speaking to the vampire, who had not even flinched from his standoffish posture in the chair. He was extremely tall and thick with short, cropped, black hair.

Felix stood and assessed the new livestock. He looked at Jane and the mute, who cowered guardedly against the wall and me still on my knees. I tried my best to conceal the anger burning in my eyes by staring at the joints in the floor boards. His muddy steel-toe boot pressed into my chest, forcing me to lean back so he could see my face at whatever angle he was trying to achieve.

Demetri leaned casually against the mantle of the ash streaked fireplace and watched as I endured the assessment. Jane took her time to appraise his captive as well, kneeling next to the feisty one and grabbing her chin forcefully. The blonde screamed profanities through the gag.

"I do not see anything special about this one," she spit in shrill anger. Felix knelt beside her and stared.

"Nor do I, yet Eleazar claims she holds potential. If not, she looks strong enough to breed upon," he added pinching her arm. The girl flinched away in stifled wrath. Felix then sniffed the air and walked over to me again, this time hauling me to my feet by my hair. I ground my teeth together in agony.

"What is wrong with this one?" he demanded, scowling at me. I tensed my bony shoulders in pain, pulling them up to my ears. His eyes were evil, his presence frightening like Jane's.

"She was the Cullen's pet," stated Demetri plainly. Jane prowled around me.

"She is too small to breed off of. And too foul to snack on," he said, squeezing me like one would a melon in the produce aisle. I did not like how they were looking at me, so I tugged away and glared at him.

"You should not keep her gagged. It is cruel and I demand you get us food or you will have corpses to play your sick games with."

For a second, Felix looked at me like he was astonished humans were capable of talking. His red eyes blinked then narrowed again, as if focusing in on something far off in the distance. Then he looked at Demetri and his smile grew wider than the Cheshire cat's. He turned around and spoke to Demetri in a low voice; his words too fast for me to make out. And then he turned around with a stormy look clouding his malicious face and he advanced onto me.

"First of all pet, I am not trying to win the Nobel Peace Prize so I'll be as cruel as I wish. Secondly, it would be beneficial for you to realize how she got to be gagged; she talked too much. Thirdly, but most imperatively, you'll get food when that spirit of yours breaks. And until then, I care not about the state of your body."

"Bastard," I accessed daring to face him. He liked and almost welcomed the name.

"Pet, you're getting dangerously close to the fire. I would take several steps back or you may get burned," he warned gleefully. It was a threat but I could tell he would love nothing more than to see me suffer. Jane was already staring me down her with crimson eyes locked on mine. Felix sneered, taking a strand of my hair and twisting it in an insidious sort of way. Goosebumps ran rabid up my arms and alarms went off in my head. I could stand it no more.

I took my two fingers and jabbed them into his vile eyes; I was not stupid enough to think I could disable him any other way. I pivoted and dashed to the door, glad I finally got the 75 dollars out of the self defense class my Mia made me take. Before I could turn the doorknob, pain ravished my body.

It was a screeching pain, one you could not ignore. I fell to the floor in convulsion, as if volts of electricity were coursing up and down my body. I wanted to scream but I could not do more than open my mouth. I looked at them through tear glossed eyes. They all stood watching me unalarmed. Jane.

I had heard the stories but none did her gift justice. I made a small whimpering noise but upon seeing her sick pleasure I vowed to suffer silently. It felt like eons before she stopped and stomped out the door as if to say "she is no fun to play with." I curled up into a fetal position and attempted to steady my breathing. Felix came and towered over me.

"Learn from that, you little brat!" he demanded with a heavy kick to my ribs. Then he too made his way to the door, turning only to address Demetri.

"I'm going to feed. Tie up the mute one and watch the brat," he directed as the door slammed. I then let myself cry while Demetri tied up the other captive. He then stood over me and listened to me cry noisily.

"Shut up." He demanded in a forceful whisper and a gentle nudge of his boot. But I let my sobbing continue, adding in a few screams here and there. He watched for a moment more, cringing when an aggravated neighbor started spewing French curses a few houses down.

"Would you shut up please?" He asked progressively more annoyed than he was a moment prior. To aggravate him further, I let my cries attain a soprano like pitch.

"Uhhhhhh, if you are going to continue to make that much noise I'll have to take you to another room," he said scooping me up.

He took me to through the house, up a grand staircase, down a dusty hall and into a forgotten room at the end of the landing. The house was like a time capsule. It was as if no one had occupied it for a hundred years. I felt anxious about the place but he seemed at home. As the door opened, I shivered in fear of what would be inside. But there was only a grand four post bed and a chest of drawers topped with a dust covered wash bin. He ripped back the threadbare covers, sending moths scattering in every direction. None to gently, he laid me down.

"Sleep girl. It might be your last night of rest," he whispered before leaving me. I obeyed.

I awoke in a start, a beautifully eerie man was sitting by my head. He had an angular facial structure and long, jet black locks. His skin had the translucent quality of an onion peel. His pasty white face contrasted with his eyes of blood and cobwebs. He smiled down and scoffed in aristocratic manner.

"So like a Cullen to demand special accommodations," he growled, looking at the bed. I was not sure which one he was. He drew back the covers and looked at my body as if he had the right to. I shivered.

"Yes, how unfortunate. Your body would never bear child birth of even a normal child," he said downcast. "But you are a pretty little thing. I could enjoy you thoroughly," he added in a wistful, low voice. His cold fingers caressed my cheek in a way that made me balk. Just then there was a beeping noise. The presence of technology somewhat staggered me. His pale fingers flipped out a small streamline phone and pressed it to his marble ear.

"Hello friend, I was expecting your call."

"You're in Volterra? What a pity. I'm out of town on business."

"Your granddaughter? Oh yes, she is right here."

I could hear my Papa's smooth voice. It was swelling to a new level. I could not make out the words but I listened in on the one sided conversation.

"Now Carlisle, let's not say things that we do not mean. You can take it up with Eleazar; I would have never known about her if it were not for him."

I heard his voice and others in the background, my Mia among them. My heart leaped at the thought of my family, at the hope for escape. Tears sprang to my eyes as I realized that they were still far from me and unable to help.

"She is fine and will continue to be fine. She will, however, be joining our race. After she serves us for a nice time, she will be free to come home. You can just see it as a tax for living such a great existence. Look at the good; you'll not even have to tame her in her newborn years."

There was a great upheaval of detest on the other end, and I could hear my Popeye demanding the phone. But Carlisle's voice spoke again.

"Now Carlisle, I understand your family might be a little dismayed, but she will learn our way of life and be a part of our family. I am quite fond of her already."

I then heard a spew of angry words that indicated that my Popeye had gotten the phone for a moment. Then Carlisle's calmed voice spoke again.

"Now, now, I'm not that fond of her. Carlisle I will warn you. You and your motley crew will leave Volterra or the girl dies-"

There was protest and yelling.

"-Yes I will do it. In fact as we speak, it is becoming the more gratifying option. After all, I never punished your family for their insubordinate display all those years ago when the mutant was born."

"I'll cut a deal. If, in the end, I resolve to drink your granddaughter, I'll write and tell you what she tastes like. After all, you should know what you've been missing."

I could not hear precisely what was said, but I thought I heard Carlisle drop the f- bomb a few times, something that was uncharacteristic of him.

"Ahh, yes Carlisle my feelings for you are mutual. Salutations my friend."

He shut the phone with grace, while I grasped at the air reaching for it. I looked at this man and growled as best I could. He laughed and his eyes gleamed in delight.

"You are something. It is uncanny how vampire-like you are already," he grabbed my chin with his glass fingers. Rudely, I smacked his hand away and stomped off to be in the corner of the room looking out a small window, a portal to the outside world. Outside, past the faded lace curtains, it was dusk. People were rushing home to their loved ones, some even walking hand in hand with one another. I was not going home. A pang of despair hit me hard. I did not belong here. I had spent almost all my life in little old Forks; never had I been alone, without them.

"Come hither child, let me look at you." It was a demand, not a request.

Reluctantly, I went to him. If looks could kill an already dead vampire, this guy would have keeled over. He did not seem turned off by my disgust. His ice hands settled on my forehead and immediately I felt the discomfort. It was as if someone was inside me sorting through the rubble, probing my soul. I felt exposed, naked. I looked at him. His eyes were closed as if dreaming or recalling something. After what seemed like minutes, he pulled away.

"Ahh, Emmalie Alice Marie Cullen, you are an interesting thing," he said with an almost friendly smile on his striking face.

"Don't call me that," I said shivering. "It sounds wrong coming from your lips."

I felt her before I saw her in the door way. I crumbled to the ground, body throbbing with pain.

"Jane dear, there is no need to be protective. Restrain yourself," he scolded lightly. The pain subsided instantly. He offered me a hand to help me stand, but I would not take it so he knelt beside me.

"I will call you whatever you wish to be called child. But make no mistakes, you will call me by one name and that is Master," he said coldly. My heart iced over with hate.

"Now child, let us talk frankly with one another. Some of us come with added talents, mine being with a touch I see everything that has happened as of yet to you. Your friend Eleazar has a talent for seeing these talents. You, my dear, will possess a talent though I'm not sure what it will be. It is promising." He stood and loomed down at me, making me feel even smaller.

"We are both offering each other something child. You wish to be immortal and I wish for you to join the guard. You will not need to stay with us forever, though most do. If, at the end of your service, you wish to go then you may."

"How long?" I asked.

"Fifty years," he ventured. I gasped at such a timeframe. That would be forever; in that time Ness would be married and my family would have started over in somewhere fresh, maybe three times over. What if I could not find them?

"That is far too long," I fought in a whisper.

"When your immortal, 50 years is not but a moment," he reminded me, clasping his hands together conclusively. He was not going to let up, I could tell he was set on a certain outcome.

I bit my lip as I thought about the offer, weighing my options or lack thereof. My family _would_ come to save me, but how long would it take them to buy someone off with where I was? How long could I continue without my rigorous regime of medications and supplements? How long would this man let me put off the change? I still felt apprehensive, but what was the alternative? Being feasted upon by vampires? Maybe, in reality, I had no choice.

"I do bargain; you know that already don't you? What was her name? That half blooded sister-cousin of yours? Oh yes, Nessie! You could lead me to her; and I'd be willing to make a substitution."

I felt instantly nauseous. I could never betray them, not in that way.

"Change me," I demanded, disgusted by his offer.

In an instant he advanced upon me, pinning face down to the bed, smothering my face into the covers. For I moment I thought he was trying to suffocate me, but then his frozen lips found their way to the back of my neck. There was fire burning fiercely ringed by the iced flesh of his lips. The back of my neck felt three bites and that was it. I never did turn sixteen. It was the day before my sixteenth and always would be.

I fell into what felt like a raging inferno, a heat equivalent to that of the fires of hell. I was not unconscious, it just that the pain was all I could focus on. My Mia had told me three days but there was no way to measure time. My body ached from fighting the burn. My eyes seemed as if they were seared shut. And for one last time, I slept, cowering under a blanket of fire.


	17. Authour's Note

The remaining chapters are what I have written and they are raw, unedited and littered with mistakes ….I am working on publishing a book, so as you can imagine this is on the very back burner. I do not when or if I'll finish I just thought I will post everything….Thank you for reading and for being a part of my ff journey :)


	18. Frozen in Time

_"It has been too long. Eight days is far too long!"_

_"Why is she still out then?"_

_"How the hell am I to know?"_

_"Perhaps we should sink another set of teeth into her."_

_"Nonsense! Her skin has hardened, she's changed. She just needs to wake."_

_"I cannot stand to hear her infantile whimpering drone on for but a second longer or I will rip out her hair."_

_"Nor I….Let us leave her and check up on her in a few hours time."_

_"But the Masters said to keep watch over her."_

_"A few hours will not hurt. Let us go and hurry back. The others will hear her if she stirs." _

_"Alright."_

I felt cold stone beneath me, my heightened senses identifying every grouted seam. My body felt weightless, like those videos you see of the moon walkers. I felt different; my whole life I was weakened by illness but now strength cultivated something new in me. While I was still immobilized by pain, I could tell that I was physically powerful. Footsteps drew closer, padding against the hard stone of a hallway close by. Swallowing, I noticed my throat was on fire but my mouth was moister than ever.

I flinched at the sound of an angel's voice moan in torment. It was strange, the voice was almost familiar. It was eerie to hear. It took me several seconds, but I finally recognized the voice as my own.

Someone knelt beside me offering me comfort. Arms cradled me, and rocked me gently. Safely tucked away, I stopped my soft weeping, reducing it to little sobs. "Popeye?" I asked breathlessly between sobs. The pain was finally becoming bearable.

"Per favore non ti piangere tesoro mio. Non posso resistere quando lo fai!"

The words held no meaning yet they flowed like a beautiful requiem or better yet lullaby. I tried to open my eyes but gentle fingers caressed them shut. I did not fight; I simply let the pain fade even more.

"Calmarsi. Calmarsi, tesoro mio," the voice lulled to me. I focused in on it and let the pain leave. "Sei molto bella." I was once again laid out on the stone, softly placed in the same spot. The same fingers brushed my tangled hair out of my face as I stirred.

Minutes or hours later, I opened my eyes. Vibrant colors danced before me, making me squint then open again. The world looked different. A new color unseen as of yet to me was visible. I looked about for the voice but I was on the floor alone in the cold stone chamber. My heart sank, for even in my sleep I was hoping I was rescued and at home.

I shook away my despair and looked around. I was dressed in what looked to be a black silk robe. It draped to my ankles and had the sleeves of an Asian kimono. My feet were bare against the ancient stone, causing me to shiver despite the fact that I felt no coldness. The dungeon-like room had no windows, no light in fact, but my sight was not compromised. I ran my hand down the front of my neck trying to smoother that burning sensation but it would not go away.

Standing, I held my hands out in front of me, examining them. They were once plain hands, but now they seemed almost lovely.

I walked about the room enjoying my lithe, willowy movement. For once in my life, I did not feel sick. Pain I had lived with forever was gone. I was so happy I twirled, gasping when I discovered how fast I could pirouette. My elated mood sagged when my mind cycled back to the ugly truth: everyone I wanted to share this moment with was not here.

I stood there motionless, contemplating for I am not sure how long. Even my mind could think faster, my thoughts more concentrated. My brain hurdled through ideas so rapidly that in that brief moment I thought through more than I could in whole day consumed with my human contemplations.

Distant voices danced to my ear: laughter and talking. Muffled, they seemed as though they were a few rooms away.

I noticed that the weathered door was propped wide open. I was free to leave. Dashing to the entrance, I stopped in time to remember my attire. Under my silk robe I was aware of my nakedness. It was a cruel way to keep someone captive; dressing them in something that no one would want to ever be caught dead in, (no pun intended). Retying the belt more snugly around my small waist, I tiptoed from the room.

Like a ghost, I walked down the corridor for a while and swung right, heading toward the voices. A labyrinth-like path followed. All the passageways were narrow and unlit, like an ancient story book castle. There were antique sconces mounted on the wall no longer in use, but the smoke stains on the wall suggested they were at one point. I was a little scared expecting someone to fling around the corner and order me back to the dungeon room. But no one did.

The hall way widened and out of the corner of my eye I passed a charming girl. I jumped startled then looked again. The stranger's reflection was my reflection?

The mirror mounted there was caked in dust from neglect, so I wiped it, flinching when spider web like cracks appeared from my forceful fingers. Drawing back almost frightened by myself, I scrutinized my reflection.

I was beautiful? Could that be?

It was like all my flaws were faded and my strong features amplified. My hair was a shade more golden, almost metallic. It seemed longer, waves down to my waist, thicker than ever. But perhaps nothing changed and this was simply a good hair day; the first of many.

My light skin was like marble. Because while alive I was still recovering, I was slender. But now my slenderness did not look sickly, simply elegant. My eyelashes were as thick as always, maybe a little darker against my pale lids. My lips kept some of their color; pale red. They too contrasted against my skin. Under my eyes were lightly lavender colored. But it was beautiful somehow. And my eyes were a deep, rich rose petal red. They were bordered in a royal purple. I did not look like a little girl anymore. Young and youthful, but sensual none the less. The look was frightfully inhuman.

I laughed a little, knowing that I would be caught off guard by my reflection for the rest of forever.

Continuing, I meekly crept around the corner, lingering in the doorway of a gigantic corridor. They were sitting at a round mahogany table. It was not the same way my family sat around; it was more of a meeting. Professionals discussing a plan, not a family talking carelessly. At the table sat the cherub-faced Jane, Felix in his smug persona and another male vampire younger but his face was twisted in a permanent cruel smile. His features were the very likeness of Jane. I stood a distance away, unsure of how to or if I even should interrupt. But just then a beautiful brunette woman walked past, bumping me out of her way. Her hair hung straight to her tapered waist and her little body was barley clothed. She had the walk of a runway model and the attitude of a siren. She was gorgeous and statuesque with long, lustrous mahogany hair and long legs. Her features were pretty and clearly German.

"Heidi," said Felix with a formal nod of acknowledgment. She sat on the table and faced him, folding her lanky legs over one another in an artistically alluring way. Her red eyes glowered over her shoulder to me, bringing my presence to the attention of the others.

"I did not realize we let the infants out of their cages yet," she spit in distain. Felix's hand patted her bare thigh in comfort, then glanced over to me and rolled his eyes.

"Heidi, dear play nicely," he said, giving her a squeeze.

I stood as they ignored me further, sitting in silence and brewing over something unmentioned. _So this is the past time of villains_, I thought to myself. Villains. Long ago, my Uncle Jasper had reprimanded me firmly when I had called them villainous bastards for coming after Nessie. He had told me they were not the villains, but a necessary evil that needed to exist to provide accountability among their race. I could tell he had a slight admiration for them. He spoke of a system of checks and balances. I did not sass Jasper, and told him I understood, but the truth was I still did not understand. Right now they looked like the Titans ready to scourge Mount Olympia with their wrath. Definitely villains; _hey, if the shoe fits wear it._

Eyes burned a hole in me and I turned knowingly to glare at him. Demetri. He was leaning casually against the wall; close to the entrance. He had seen me standing there for several minutes and said nothing. Looking away immediately, he breathed deeply as if savoring the air. On several occasion I had noticed him doing this and found it quite odd. Vampires did not need to breathe.

Remembering this, I looked down at my chest and noticed it was rising and falling out of habit. I exhaled and brought the movement to a halt; it was an alien-like feeling. That and the burning in my throat made me feel woozy for an instant.

_Could vampires faint?_ I did not think so.

"Welcome to Volterra. How do you feel?" Dimitri inquired stiffly as if the etiquette pained him. He did not look at me this time, just spoke.

"Dead thanks to you," I spit none too cordially. I was not going to pretend for a moment we were anything but mortal foes. He smiled at me wickedly. I felt ghost of color in my cheeks.

"The worst is over," he stated plainly, his burgundy eyes rising up to meet mine. I took a step back when our gaze caught for an awkward moment. They were beautifully alluring. Big and bordered by thick lashes, lashes that God should have bestowed on someone more deserving. He seemed to notice the power he had over me. _Could he be any more of a prick? Oh I hate him_, I thought to myself.

Heidi slid off the table, her body movement fluid and seducing. She prowled toward the corridor opposite of us and turned to explain her departure.

"I thirst. I'll be back with the goods. Give me an hour or so," she said looking at me. I realized this was a kind gesture, but I flinched to think about what would be on the menu. I knew that my family abided by a different set of rules and a different type of diet. Unless the one called Heidi was going to the zoo, I highly doubted we would be eating from the animal part of the food pyramid.

"I have a task to see to before then," said the one I assumed to be Alec.

He stood up and dismissed himself, nodding with a formal air. He left, walking by me as though I was transparent, nothing but a mirage on a well worn desert path.

"Take the brat to see the masters. They wished to see her when she awoke. Chelsea and Corin were to escort her there when she came to. Looks as if you'll have to do the honors," he reminded before sinking into the darkness which I had emerged from.

I realized then that I was very low on the totem pole. Jane stood and went to me cuffing my arm as if annoyed by being assigned such a minuscule task. Callously, she pulled me from the spot where I stood. For some odd reason, I resisted her sharp tugs, grounding my feet where I stood.

She struggled with my newborn strength for a few seconds, before she resolved to paralyze me with pain. Even then, I thrashed. Both Jane and Demetri had to carry me still screaming in pain.

We went down a long ornate hall, lined in old paintings. When we reached a set of lavished golden doors we veered to the right disappearing behind a hidden door. The mouth of the room lead to an impressive stone chamber, the ceilings reaching over 30 feet in height and the walls featuring long, silted windows. The room was a contrast of cold, dark stone and pallid Italian marble.

As I was thrown to the ground, I quickly tried to take in my surroundings. It felt as though I had taken a fall back in time and was now in Caesar's throne room. In fact, in the middle sat three solid wood thrones. The vast room was empty and echoed with my thud. Then from the far corner, a figure emerged from the shadows. Pain still retched through my body so I only could watch him with half of my attention. I whimpered and curled into fetal position. He floated toward us his red, foggy eyes locked on me.

"Jane darling, that is enough," he admonished with a bemused tone. The pain varnished, but I kept my position. He knelt beside me, his curtain of ebony black hair flowing around his broad shoulders. His skin was milky white and translucent. He was garbed in a black robe.

"Do you remember me, Emmalie?" He questioned, turning my head towards him. I growled in response. He stood and looked at me once more as if pleased by how I turned out. I hated that he was satisfied.

"Now Emmalie, tell me. Have you stumbled upon your powers yet?" He asked in a spine-chilling whisper. His dead lips were too close to my ear for my liking. I turned from him still lying on the floor. He seemed aghast by my defiance and then he put his hand on my head and he saw for himself.

"Well, when it comes to your attention I wish to be the first to know," he directed me in a voice one would use to warn a petulant child. "And as for your plans to escape, let me squelch them before you waste your time. There are 32 members of the guard that serve me and my brothers, and twice as many spies. Jane's little pain illusions will not be all you experience if I indeed have to drag you back here. The choice is yours dear, you can serve as a member of the guard or you can serve as a slave. It has been far too long since I have had one of those."

At that I sat up and scooted away. He looked at me still for a moment.

"Sulpicia, come," he beckoned, the ownership in his voice undeniable.

A tall, very slender woman came gracefully to him. He held out his hand and she took it in his and kissed it. I wanted to roll my eyes at such submission, it was revolting.

"Emmalie this is my bride and your Mistress. You will heed her word or you will wish you had. Do I make myself clear?"

I did not answer too shocked to agree. A Master? A Mistress? I wanted neither. Yet, I did not have a choice.

So this was what injustice felt like. I had been sheltered my whole life, emerged in Papa Car's philosophical way of thinking. Inequality, forced submission, even violence had been boarded from my life. Now I was going to have to play by a different set of rules; rules that I abide by until they came for me, a reality that was surely in my near future.

I realized that they were looking to me at show signs of consent. I would give them none. No one was going to own me, not in life or death.

So I stood, taking a closer look at the stick of a vampire before me. She had a statue-like appearance to her, as if Bouncily had sculpted her himself. Her thick midnight ringlets were tight spirals. I could tell she was native to this region, her washed out olive skin was probably once golden from the Tuscan sun.

I followed her, walking effortlessly, amazed by my new found agile body. Being a vampire was a lot different than I had imagined it to be. I realized that my vision of my family was skewed to say the least. I had always seen them as more human than this. But now that I experienced it I was clearly dead, frozen and preserved. My chest was hollow and my heart silent; a corpse. Blood no longer pumped in my veins, the feeling of life was gone.

My senses raced though: smell multiplied; heat sensory tripled; sight 100/20 and taste. Well, taste was no longer dependent upon things being in my mouth. It was as if I grew a set of hyperactive overly sensitive taste buds; the air now held flavor. The sticky drip in the back of my lifeless throat I assumed had to be my venom.

She winded up a narrow stone staircase, I followed watching every which way with my advanced peripheral vision. And then we were in a room, the bedchambers of some ancient king to be sure. Elegantly decorated with the finest antiques, it was probably the lost 8th world wonder. Golden glistening harps, lost impressionist paintings and medieval tapestries. She walked swiftly over to a giant cherry Armoire graced with the carved faces of cherubs in flight and pulled out a paper bag, on it was written a number in script. From it she pulled several shirts, pants and dresses.

"Strip and try them on, while I search for more," she commanded her voice exotic and royal. I obeyed only because she appeared too distracted to notice my immodesty.

On top of the bag I was surprised to find my old hand-me-down jeans and my new tunic, the nape of the neck stained with blood.

I hugged them to my chest before, tenderly setting them protectively at my feet, then looking through the others.

Most were loose and unassuming but they would do. I watched curiously as she sifted through bags of clothes. Did she collect clothes? Is that why she had such a plethora of sizes to choose from?

Just then, she seemed to find what she was looking for: a dark purple cotton dress. It was not overly formal but it was not every day wear either. She held it up to me for size, her attention darted to a stain. It was rust in color and showed even on the plum fabric.

"Still fresh," she stated as she thumbed it gently. My lip trembled as the realization hit me.

The clothes were the leftovers.

I cringed as she casually took the stain between her lips and sucked it clean. After a savoring sigh and smile at a job well done, she handed it over to me. Bile would have been rising in my throat, but it must have been dead like the rest of me. This woman enjoyed dirty laundry far too much. Unnerved by her antics, I quickly pulled on the cotton dress and smoothed it over my curves. She must have seen the distain, for she scoffed.

"You may come down from your noble pedestal; you are no different than the rest of us," she snickered, throwing the bag at my feet. Then like an heiress, she swiped up my own clothes and held them in a resentful fist. In an instant as the protectiveness fully washed over me, they were lanced in my fist and ripped from her own. The tunic Alice had bought for me last week still smelled like her, and Nessie's hand-me-down jeans were like an archive of memories in and of themselves. When I looked at them I saw her: her sitting on the curb eating frozen yogurt with me at Ben and Ari's, her pulling weeds with me, her sprawled out on the couch watching Spanish soap-operas with the captions on. I pulled the faded denim to my chest remembering the picture still in the back pocket, the one that made me endlessly gleeful the other day. Again she scoffed.

"Do not over-romanticize the past. It is unhealthy," she chided unemotionally.

The she floated about the room in a whirl, leaning out to door to summon someone. Not a moment later two females appeared. One had boyishly short hair the other was tall and elegant, her fiery curls tied back in an imperfect bun.

"You called," the one with the cropped hair inclined. They both bowed their heads respectively.

"Yes," Sulpicia chimed. "The livestock will be herded in shortly and our newborn sister is sure to be thirsty. Escort her and keep watch. We do not need a runner," she warned with her dark red gaze speaking wordlessly to them. I was going to protest but she beat me to the fight.

"You're dismissed," she announced, shooing me like one would an overly annoying dog.

The red haired one grabbed my arm, ushering me to the task. But Soical recalled something and sprung back.

"Oh and Chelsea, you have my gratitude for your persuasive work with Eleazar. As always you're quite the diplomat." she praised then turned back to something else.

I was dragged down a maze of passage ways to a cell like room, with no window and no light. It was the square footage of an oversized closet, no more.

"This is your chamber. Your belongings can remain here," the short haired one said, motioning to the space.

"My name is Corin and if you ever need someone to show you around just ask me," she offered, sarcasm dripping from her shrill voice. It was an invitation I did not feel pulled to accept. "Quickly, store your belongings and follow us."

Cautiously, I set my stuff on the floor, and then on second thought, I retrieved the picture from the worn jeans and tucked it under my bra strap. I followed them now, them speaking in low voices that I could now hear clearly. I did not pay a vast amount of attention to their conversation; however something they said caught my attention.

"It was foolish to think you could keep a Child of the Night. Master Aro was convinced she was something unique but truthfully I'm glad he was wrong."

"Yes, I suppose it is best she was destroyed. I would not want the flea bag roaming around if she served us no purpose."

My feet stopped moving with the realization of those words. My eyes ached to cry, to glass over in tears, but instead I took a shaky breath. Leah! They were speaking of my Leah!

There in an alcove in the narrow stone passage I crumpled over in sorrow. Dry sobs echoed in the claustrophobic hall, causing my tour guides, who had strayed ahead, to turn around. They both smiled wickedly as if they know the cause of my pain.

Had I been more in tune, I would have noticed the common gleam in their ruby eyes. Instead I was attempting to come to terms with this. It was my fault. Leah dying would be my fault, no one else. Dead or alive, I could not exist knowing that her blood was on my hands.


	19. Escape

"Whatever is the matter with her," her stark voice questioned.

"It is just the newborn emotions. She will callus over soon," the other one said sharing the same indifference. They were humored by my pain.

I sat there crouched over, head in my hands consumed in my self-torment. That's when I heard the screams; muffled screams of mortal terror came from closed corridors below. Whimpers, the snapping of necks, the flutter of neurotic heart beats, the draining and slurping of blood, unrelentingly flooded my ears. It was gut-wrenching.

"Mummy!Mummy!" One cried.

Oh not a child; please not a child! I begged to myself.

It took only seconds to spring to my feet. At first, I thought that the predator in me was going to spew to life, but then I felt my instincts throw me in the other direction, fleeing the drifting smells that had begun to assault my nostrils. I longed to get out of the clammy space to the open night air.

So I ran as fast as my legs would permit, turning this way and that searching the stone cage for a way out. I honed into the sound of the outdoors and weaved my way toward the rustling of leaves, the occasional hum of a passing car. Upon reaching the end of a hall I came upon an elevator. I did not waste time instead; I pried a vent open and used the suspension cables to pull myself up the shaft. I was brought to a standstill for but a moment when I reached a set of locked doors. In a quick string of fluid motions I hoisted myself through an air vent. Somehow I managed to pull myself out of a man hole, thronging the cover like a Frisbee in a darkened alley.

I was free; I breathed the warm night air realizing that it would be only temporary. They would come for me. I had to flee to a place they could not be, but there was not a La Push here, no forbidden land.

I thought fast. Or was there?

Quickly I rose to my feet and walked out of the alley into the public eye careful to keep my scarlet eyes to the ground in case of a midnight passerby. I walked the narrow Tuscan streets barely letting my feet touch the cobblestone, walking at a fastened yet human like pace. I searched the romantic skyline for my refuge and found it in an instant. I ran toward it past the town square, the piazza and a looming clock tower.

Pigeons were spooked by my presence, shooting off in flight well before I was even near. While a hissing gray tabby on the corner bared its teeth-back arched, hackles raised, ears turned back. Even a goat on the street took off in a skittish manner. Did they all sense my danger?

The city was an album of warm colors. Despite the lack of daylight the ginger walls and wine-red roofs bathed the streets in a sort of amber glow. The backdrop of rolling hills, advertised the cities Tuscan nature. The streets were narrow and the buildings lofty, creating a sort of private passageway. The vegetation was lush, and seemed to engulf the hilltop city from all sides, filtering in, in the form of small herb gardens. A collaboration of both old and new, the city had newly renovated bars and ancient seminaries.

The aroma of salty human lingered in the air. I could see how it could be appealing yet the thought of death still unnerved me. I was not sure I was made out for the hunt. Even animal blood, while more appealing, made me slightly faint. Figures! I had a suppressed appetite as a human why would I change in death. But what of my animal instincts, the ones that were to make me wild and heartless?

The gothic tower greeted me offering sanctuary, a shield of stain glass. I exhaled and slipped in the giant brass doors, allowing the lingering sinners to part at a distance. The sanctuary was golden with the glow of candlelight and a quiet with reverence. Again, I put my head down and clung to the shadows. Unobtrusively, I took a seat on a velvet covered pew and closed my eyes like the wretch I was.

No one had ever taught me to pray, it was something I did myself. It agitated my Uncle, and unnerved my mother. I think they thought that if I grew religious I would scorn them. But I never would. In fact I was certain that if there was a God he would have been pleased with my family. Only Carlisle and Esme embraced my search for God, agreeing to take me to church on Easter and Christmas Eve. Other than that not a soul had ever forced me in this direction. I started my prayers like I did every time, modifying it only a little.

_God I do not know if you can hear me? Or if you take request from vampires but if you do please hear me out. I know I'm not the best daughter or the perfect friend, but if you could spare Leah this one time I promise I would do better. She has suffered so much. Please. _

_Thank you greatly. Oh and bless Mia and Popeye, Nana and Papa, Edward and Bella, Alice and Jasper and Nessie and Jake. And help them all to know that they not only have souls but they have beautiful ones_.

I clenched my eyes begging with every ounce of my cold dead being. Through the veil of my pale eyelids, I saw the altar boys extinguishing some of the golden glow. The pews in front of me were vacant. The cathedral had been almost entirely deserted for the night. I sighed, welcoming the seclusion. I highly doubted they would come for me in here. I would just stay here for a few days, play it cool and then flee. _Sanctuary_, I thought to myself, glad to be away from the monsters. But I began to rethink my plan as the drought in my throat begged to be quenched. Maybe my reserve was faltering; maybe there was a monster that I would never be able to flee.

_Oh God please give me strength to refuse please._ "Please," I whispered aloud.

I felt him approach from behind, heavy steps, hollow chest. It was either an angel or the walking dead. With a glance over my shoulder I confirmed the second.

He sat down too close to me at first not saying anything just smiling smugly. He looked around the elaborate sanctuary laughing irrespectively as if it was some fake in a circus side show. My glare silenced him then he looked me over as if to make sure he found the right girl.

"I do hope you were praying for mercy because you will need it girl. Jane is planning on giving you quite the delusional thrashing and the Masters are all but paying her to do it."

"Go to hell and stay there," I said under my breath. He again chuckled. The room was dim and echoed with my harsh words.

"Now, now that is not the proper thing to say before Providence," he chided mockingly, motioning with his hands to the safe haven in front of me. I hated him; really, really, really, eternally despised him. I could hear the swish of the priest's white robe as it kissed the ground. His steps trailed closer, approaching to us from behind.

"Children the midnight prayer vigil is over. Stay if you wish the door will be open," he said to our backs.

"Thank you kindly. You're too sweet," Demetri said in an artificial tone. Even I shivered at the silent threat. Demetri look at me again bemused. I stared straight ahead ignoring him and his overly childish ways.

"You do realize that Chelsea was playing with you. The dog is fine," he said with forced civility. Something in me wanted to believe him, yet at the same time I hated to trust him. I scooted to my left to put a comfortable distance between us.

"You surprised me," he stated with glee. "I expected to follow a trail of broken bodies to find you. Had that been the case, the penalty would have been termination. You are not the typical newborn."

I wonder if I could smash in his face, I thought. He must have ignored my agitated posture for he went on.

"Newborns are confined to the grounds for four years and only then may leave with an escort only. They are rash stupid creatures." He said gazing ahead at an elaborate alter, the base of which was covered in ornate carvings of Biblical scenes. "Your control must be your gift. It rivals some of the most disciplined of us." I stood up and he did as well offering me his arm. I shoved past him and all his prattiness, stepping on his foot forcefully.

I did not want to hear about how I should be a monster. He of course was entertained by my display and followed me.

With little effort, I flung open the brass door and was met by the aroma of whiskey and salty blood. Drunks exiting a corner bar not but a half a block away. In my mind I estimated the time and steps it would take to reach them. Then I would lure them into an alley and then what? I sighed realizing that I was like a child whining for a cookie in a sealed jar. It was not that I did want blood it was that I could not get to it without killing.

His large hand grasped my upper arm wrapping completely around, tight like a tunicate. I noticed that he was no longer cold, not in the least. I look at him surprised.

"You thirst; we must get you back," he said leading me to a stylish compact car with darkened windows. But I pulled away at the thought of being served live flesh. No I could not go back. My mind soared through possibilities while he tugged on me toward the car.

"Wait please wait," I pleaded as he attempted to stuff me in the door. I stared down the street searching the signs of the little boutiques and tourist traps, most of which were boarded up and closed for the night. Then I found what I wanted, a 24 hour internet cafe.

"Please let me go one place more!" I pleaded with vigor. He looked overly annoyed. But he raised his eyebrows and released my arm, and looked at my questioningly.

"Just that cafe for a few minutes, no more," I clarified. His eyes narrowed at the cafe I was pointing to and then grew dark with suspicion.

"If you let me I promise I'll not fight you anymore." I vowed. With a sigh of release he reluctantly nodded. But he re-cuffed his hand around my arm and led me down the street like one would a wayward child.


	20. Delivery

The dimly lit, poorly-furnished coffee bar had but two people in it: a young lady consumed in a conversation typing away in the corner and a youthful looking boy mopping the floors on the left side of the room. Since my escort seemed uncertain, I choose a computer closest to the door. I sat down gently so not to break the plastic barstool. The world wide net had gotten about 800 times slower since I last used it. It was overly frustrating. In my anger I had cracked a few keys on the key board. Demetri stood with his arms crossed at a distance, half way out the door, as it the computer was the black plague itself. I could tell he did not like that I was so sure of what I was doing, while he remained ignorant. He impatiently tapped his foot while I surfed, keeping his gaze toward window so to hide his red eyes. I smiled as I found what I wanted. Volterra was home to 11,734 people, surly they had to have what I was looking for. I leafed through links and browsed over virtual maps. And then boom-right there on Google maps I found it. I scratched down the address and locations mentally in my mind, memorizing the street names and turns. When we left, he exhaled with relief. He sauntered back to the car and motioned for me to get in, but I shook my head no. Anger filled his eyes, and his fist clinched at his sides, he looked like a volcano ready to erupt.

"Get in," he barked. But I shook my head.

"Please I can't go back just yet please," I pleaded.

"We had an agreement," he barked again. But before he could charge over to me, I took off in a run. It was very late; the alleys I weaved down were all empty. I did not know exactly where I was heading but I kept moving because he was on my trail. Down Rivitarro and onto Tinzza, then around the corner and there it was, tall, modern and uninviting as they all tended to be. The locks bent like thin aluminum and the security cameras I took out with a twist of my fingers. I crept like the burglar I was across the linoleum into the refrigerated segment of the building. I heard creaking of the door and the weighted footsteps. He turned the corner to the refrigerated room and was about to implode his wrath on me, when the smell hit him like a bullet to the chest.

"What is this place?" He asked in awe. I too let myself be swept up by the glorious smell.

"It's a blood bank," I said going over to a wire rack of crimson filled bags. A whole room of blood for our use!

"They make banks of blood," he asked in undeserving reverence. He seemed to worship the dead liquid, esteeming this stark refrigerator above the cathedral.

"Yes," I said caressing the chilled bag with my equally frigid fingertips. The fragrance was intoxicating but I was still disgusted. No one died; this is harmless, I coaxed to myself raising it to my trembling lips. I looked over to Demetri guzzling down a bag giving into incitement without so much as a thought.

"No drinking O positive," I stipulated before he could reach for seconds. "A, B or AB only, understand," I said showing him the markings on the bag. I could not help myself my Papa was a doctor. He looked at me for a moment with confusion then shrug in consent.

I drank probably more than I should have, but I had squelched my thirst for so long that I was a little impulsive. He hoisted himself upon the sterile steel counter top where he sat and watched me drink. Like the sun's rays, I absorbed the energy letting it sizzle in my being. Eventually I was content enough to stop. Blood did not taste bad, kind of like a sweet tomato soup, each bag a little different. Yet it had a saltiness that had you thirsting for more the instant it met your lips. I shrugged as I disposed of our bags in a hazardous material bin and walked out.

"You should try it warm, it is even more sensational then," he suggested whispering over my shoulder as I fiddled with the bent lock. Sensational would not have been my choice of word, satisfactory and thirst quenching yes, but not sensational.

I just nodded with him in light agreement. He was probably right but I hoped to never put the statement to the test. If I played my cards right I would never have to kill. I hoped that Papa would not be displeased with me, the lines were becoming blurred and I no longer could gage for myself what was right. Now it seem as though I was just picking the better of two evils.

We left and walked back to the small car just as the sky subtly brimmed with morning light. The sun was still resting out of view, behind the Tuscan horizon, but it would not be there for much longer. My scarlet pupils burned in the light and I winced as they adjusted. I allowed him to usher me into the car. I griped the handle above, the one that usually no one has need of, preparing for another rollercoaster drive with him. He did not disappoint me, driving at super speeds in the overly narrow roads.

As he drove one of the underappreciated works of Mendlssohn hummed through the cars speakers. It was a strange contrast the lulling string of and the roar of the engine. I felt a strange sense of homesickness.

"Do you mind if I change this?" I asked motioning to the stereo. He scared me by taking his eyes off the road to look at my face.

"Something against Mendlssohn?" he asked in pure sarcasm. I ignored him and gave a straight answer.

"No it's just, my Uncle use to play this song, among others."

"Do you play?"

"Not well, at least not nearly as well as him," I admitted.

I thought back to the baby grand that my Uncle played hour upon endless hour. In my mind I could see him there, hear the perfectly executed piece.

"You should hear him play Chopin. He is flawless. I on the other hand get aggravated enough to kill myself in the first measure of a Chopin piece," I reminisced to myself.

"You will not have to worry about that anymore," he said with a light chuckle. I was not sure if he was talking about my Uncle or me playing Chopin. He noticed my angry glare and clarified.

"-You will not have to worry about killing yourself that is," he amended before I could spit my insult.

Still taken back by his show of civility, I flashed through the selections on the screen and choose my venom, knowing that it all would provoke thoughts of home.

"But you like classical music?"

"Yes, my taste in music is rather eclectic. I'm a dancer and like any good dancer I am forever grateful to Trykofvsky. My Nana and Papa are members of the Opera guild in Seattle. I saw Carmen for the first time when I was seven and hummed Bielz for days. My Uncle and Aunt Alice like to think they enrich my musical tastes, but I discovered Billy Joel and Elton John on my own. My father listens to rap and whatever is "of the time" he says. The only common dislike we share in my family is country music. It is literally banned from the house."

I forced myself to bite down on my treasonous lips, angry that they spilled forth my loves to him with such ease. He did not deserve to know any of this. I fidgeted as he seemed to soak it in. Anxiousness pulsed in me. What was it about this villainous man that made me confess like an Alcoholic at an AA meeting? If I did not know better I would have sworn he was taking lessons from my Uncle Jasper.

"And your favorite song?" he questioned. I groaned inwardly.

"You would not know it," I warned coldly. He looked as if I had offended him, somehow insulted his intellect. He turned his head to the road his neck and posture rigidly stiff.

"I'll tell you my second favorite song," I offered.

"Bach's, Air on a G string. It put me to sleep from the time I was six to the time I turned twelve. Everyone in my house could play it by then." I must have had sentinel glaze to my eyes for he questioned me.

"Do you miss your coven?"

"My family," I corrected sharply, awarding him a painful nod.

I would have to learn to keep a poker face. I did not want him to read the pendulum of emotions that I seemed to be wavering about on. We fell into silence once again. It was a silence that was more awkward even now than when I was living, the steady rasps of breath no longer offered a backdrop.

My eyes locked on only one of the words whizzing past us on signs, L'Areoproto. The rush of emotions was coupled with an equally potent rush of adrenalin sending things into quick motion. My hand yanked on the wheel steering us toward the turn off. He however corrected my swerve pushing off with his left hand steering recklessly with his right. He had won.

He pulled off, fury plastered in stone across his face. For a second I feared for my life, and then I recalled my lifeless state. His eyes spilled over flames of hate and he growled at me pushing me back against the seat.

"Understand this, your life before now is dead. You can look at your time here as a career path or a sentence. But hear me clearly, if you upset the masters your stay here will double. If you try to run, I will be the one forced to track your wretched rear down and if I'm force to do that, I'll introduce you to the torture of the afterlife. Capisci?"

I sat there glowering at him between my slivers of angry eyelids, my lips in a defiant pout. He was receiving the full effects of my sassy teenage antics.

"Bastard." I kicked the dashboard and watched the plastic crack with satisfaction.

"Brat." He accused throwing the car back into drive and speeding off in a tire-squealing pace.

The rest of the drive was inconsequential. I clenched my teeth resisting further insults and he griped the steering wheel so tight I could see the pallid bones in his knuckles. We both would have pounced if the taunting would have continued.

We arrived back at the stone prison, an immense intrusive manor just of the square, that I was growing regrettably familiar with. I simply got out, slamming the car door so hard it smashed in. Then folding my arms over my chest, I stomped down the corner alley to the wide double doors where the demon Jane waited with an all knowing smirk.

If blood was still pumping through my veins my knees would have been plagued in bruises. I had been kneeling in the cold throne room for four whole days. Immortality allowed me to stay in one place like that, but it was not enjoyable in the least.

I was allowed to arise on the condition that I address them correctly, forced submission was his ultimate goal at this point. But I vowed that I would never call them Master. Instead, I knelt there for hours. If I tried to rise, Jane was obliged to teach me the meaning of suffering.

Someone was always in the room with me, waiting for my resolve to break. Only twice did I try to get up, only to be greeted by waves of unbearable pain, like fire taking blaze in my dead bones.

_Could a vampire knell in one place for fifty years? Was there some form of world record where they kept tallies of such things?_

My throat was engulfed in flames of craving. I knew that I would have to quench my thirst at some point but for now I was content to make my point. That was until_ he_ took over the shift. I groaned when he walked in and replaced Alec in that wooden throne I had been forced to gaze upon for the last 90 some hours of torture.

A four day vacation from his smug, despicably-gorgeous face was not long enough. He smiled and I wanted nothing more than to have something to throw at him. _Something really hard! _I thought_. Like a burning million ton massive meteorite. Yes that would do it._

"Emmalie, how are you faring?"

He was patronizing even in his question, slouching lazily in his elevated lookout.

_Or if we were traveling in space I could push him into the sun's gravitational pull and watch his gorgeous body sizzle up. But did the sun have a gravitational pull or simply a force? How close would I have to get? _I fumed in silence.

"Well, thank you."Came the answer between my clenched teeth. Could one being hate another anymore? He was the reason I was here; he had sent this nightmare into motion. For the rest of eternity his name would leave a vile taste in my mouth.

He smiled and looked me over breathing in deeply and exhaling in an overly obnoxious way. I looked at the ground in disgust.

"I was recalling what you referred to me as the other day. And I thought I would enlighten you," he said pointedly.

"Storytime? I'm ecstatic let me go fetch a Ziploc baggy to contain my joy."

"Yes I knew you would be," he said sinisterly. Yet he continued a daze look in his eyes. "No one dared to call me that in life but it was exactly what I was." I shifted a little on my knees, unsure of where he was heading.

"I was born of a gypsy and sired by Eugène Rose de Beauharnais, Prince Français, in the year 1814, in secret. He died when I was 10 but not without leaving my mother and I well kept. He had seven legitimate children whom he indulged in while alive. He never spent much time with me, never acknowledging me in public. But he did make sure that I was sent to the best schools and had the best tutors. He left me a large inheritance that I acquired when I turned 16. It was then that I flaunted my wealth in court, spending enormous somes on flamboyant things. I was rash and hot-tempered and feared by even my friends No one dared call me Bastard, or my Mother a mistress but it was precisely what we were. I was a bully and a force to be reckoned with. And well…at eighteen years old I met my match in Aro. After I turned no one really insults a Vampire. So you're the first to peg me correctly."

I did not know what to say. Was he telling me that I had hurt him? He did not look mad, not even offended. He was now fiddling with something in his hand.

"The son of Napoleon?" I asked still absorbing his tale.

"Yes that would be my father. You know your history," he smiled at my knowledge.

"Now what of you brat? Where did you come from?" he asked.

"I suppose I could very well be... well a brat. My Mia and Popeye took me in when I was four. A street beggar in Prague without a past." I admitted for the first time to anyone.

He nodded and looked at me deeply as if trying to read the past that even I had no memory of. "You may have been found there but you have Swedish blood. I can smell it," he informed me in a thoughtful voice. I opened my mouth to question this new found knowledge, but I caught myself. Tactfully I tried to mask my interest and simply ignore him.

"May I present you with an offer?" he asked. My eyes were drawn to his; I noticed that they were more vibrant than mine the color of fresh blood.

"Go ahead. It is not as if I'm equipped to deny you," I reminded him.

"I know."

"Acknowledge the Masters and I'll take you to see your wolf friend."

My dead heart about skipped in my chest. Leah alive? She was alive?

"She shifted and will not turn back. We need her in human form to complete Aro's orders. Perhaps you would ease her out of her wolf phase."

"Yes, I'll do it just take me to her," I said rising.

"Not quite yet brat. You have to appease Aro, Marcus and Cacius before you can leave this room," he reminded. He sent for them while I still knelt on that damn stone floor hating myself for doing this.

They entered erilly like ghost floating about a drafty house.

"Are you ready to serve and obey us?" Cacius asked in a near shout. He liked me the least, I think. I had heard him talking of getting rid of me, claiming I showed no promise. I looked up at him. His hair shone like stands of silver spider web. Marcus and Aro hung back reluctant to assume I was giving in. They stood in door assuming that they were wasting their time.

"Yes," I said in a voice that sounded almost before I willed it. It scared me that I agreed so easily.

"Yes what...Emmalie?"Aro prompted entering the room and stooping to the ground. My lips felt like lead. I was unsure if I could bid them to make the words they wanted to hear. "Our immortality does not give you reign to try my patience, Child," Cacius bit at me. I looked at them suffering in advance for what I was going to do, I would regret this.

"Yes...Master." The last word came out in a soft whisper, barely audible.

"And you will not leave without our blessing?" Aro added. I simply nodded but the twitching in pale lips and disapproving puckered brows told me I had not responded appropriately.

"Yes Master," I forlornly corrected. I hated myself now.

"You may rise," Caucus said with a victorious sneer. "You are truly odd for a newborn. The mute girl we locked up and throw her human carcass through a hole. She is a wild animal of a thing like a newborn should be. But you, your control is unusual. I expect much out of you."

"Do you thirst?" Marcus asked. I knew the deep color of my eyes and my weakened state must have given me away. I did not even bother to lie.

"Yes," I hissed eagerly. They all laughed at my response. Demetri, I noticed was watching from the corner of the room, pretending not to listen in. He too thought my enthusiasm was humorous; he turned his eyes to the ground and scoffed knowingly. They nodded to each other pleased that they had caused me to suffer.

"Very well child. We brought you banquet for one," he said motioning to the gold plated door. The man that entered was heavy built with a chubby face. Clothed in a uniform, he appeared to be a postal worker of some sort. In his hand he held a bouquet. He looked to be very confused, like a mouse that had been weaving through a maze for so long it forgot what cheese smelled like.

His eyes were wide and puppy like. He wandered in a strange pattern looking from wall to wall lost. I instantly felt sorry for him. I noticed that he was sweating profusely in anxiousness.

"Mi scusi! Mi sono perso!" He was approaching me; the rest hung back waiting for some sort of entertainment. Entertainment that I was not going to give them!

"Posso aiutarla," I said in my poor Italian pronunciation. I had to ignore the snickers that were coming from behind.

"Sto cercando uhhhh...Emmalie Calan?" The man said looking at a small paper. I sighed

"Mi chiamo Emmalie Cullen," I told him. He looked relieved, practically throwing the flowers at me. Wiping his brow with a handkerchief he pulled from his pocket, he looked at his watch shifting from foot to foot. I peered down at the note realizing he was waiting for me to read then sign his delivery papers.

The message "**Buon appetite!**" written in a fine script.

I growled and looked at the crowd behind me. They were all happy to watch their cruel trick come to life. Cacius was smiling. "Torno subito!" I told the chubby man. Then I stomped back to my _Masters_.

"What the hell are you trying to pull?" They all laughed harder now.

"What does Carlisle do to warp his family's minds in such an unnatural way?" Aro asked looking at me as if I was the freak.

"It is called morals. Most have them," but I was unsure why I was as freakish as I was. Could it be that Carlisle had really had warped my mind? I was glad I had the same control my Aunt Bella had experienced but why?

My thoughts were interrupted by the aroma of salty human blood. Perhaps my control was not as infallible as they thought. My hands were shaking at my side, and my venom drip flowed more steadily. My audible range was tuned in on his nervous shifting and murmured heart beat. Even the pulse of his blood in his partially clogged veins mocked me. I bite my lip in resistance. They all wanted to see me falter, to resort to my wild nature and drink this pathetic man dry. And all the sudden I was not sure if they were not going to see the show they had been waiting for.


	21. Reunited Captives

"Thank you kindly for the meal but I would prefer to select my own meals," I refused. The shock at my decline was evident by the murmur of whispers that filled the room, as if I just defied some Vampire rule of etiquette. Cacius looked as if his hand twitched to cuff me, but Aro's dark chuckle cut him short.

"Why of course child Heidi would be overjoyed to have some company on her rounds. But your first chore is to get the wolf girl to come around. Can you do that?" His voiced was strained as if his vocal strings had been pinched with clothes pins and his smile revealed his yellow teeth. He pet my cheek with the back of his hand, and I had to constrain myself from flinching away.

My head nodded but he waited for the correct response.

"Yes master," I answered, his domineering title leaving a vinegar-like taste on my lips. Then glancing cautiously over my shoulder, I noticed that Alec was bidding me to follow him, Demtri at his side.

Water leaked in little streams down the stone walls. We weaved down the claustrophobic catacomb-like halls, all of which seemed to be a narrow grade slope downward. I was sure we were at least fifty feet into the ground. Felix joined us at some point; Alec walked in front-Felix took up the rear. Demitri pulled me alongside him. They were almost reverent as we approached the steel door that hardly muffled the deafening yipping. I could not help but growl as Alec unlocked the door and proceeded to slide it open, the steel dragging and screeching against the stone floors. The stench was gut wrenching, the smell of road kill on a hot day.

Her yellow eyes gleamed in the dimness. I watched as she paced back and forth from one corner to another. To my left I saw the source of the odor, maggot filled meat. The smell of the room was enough to trigger my gag reflex. The threesome watched as my anger boiled over.

"Leah only eats human food; get this out of here," I screamed. The meat was removed but the smell lingered.

I could see her ribs through her glossy coat, proof that she had not eaten in weeks. Leah seemed settled by my anger; she coiled her beautiful wolf body on the cold stone, as if allowing me to fight for her. This scared me, she was not usually this subdued. She looked overly weak for a ware. Three sets of reverent eyes watched her from the door. I knelt at a distance on the floor.

"Leah, you need to shift back so you can eat," I tried but her growl drowned out my plea. She was not looking at me.

"Please Le, just a little food and then you can shift back," I reasoned. Her head she nestled on her oversized paws and she closed her yellow eyes as if going to sleep, but instead her body morph at lightning speed. Then before I realized it Leah was at my feet, unclothed. She lay motionless; it was as stagnant as I had ever seen her. Her golden tan looked exotic against the gray stone, her black hair fanned around her, her eyes looked sad almost helpless. It took me a moment to recall her state, then I immediately took measures for her modesty.

"Close your eyes. And one of you take off your shirt," I demanded glancing over my shoulder. They all had their eyes fixed on the view before them. "Now!"

In a moments time I had a cotton button-up in my hand and I was slipping Leah's lanky arms through the sleeves. I buttoned up the shirt and noticed that it hung loosely on her body. She swam in the excess fabric. Her eyes were fixed shut tightly clenched but she moaned.

"Tell me that smell is not you," she mumbled sounding pained. I could not help but smile.

"I was thinking the same about you," I admitted. I laid my head down on her shoulder and wrapped her in a hug. She immediately sat up, not being a touchy feely type of person. She slid out of my embraced and pulled away taking in my now crimson eyes.

I could see her distain but offered her no more than a shrug. I could not change who I was for her.

"Emm," she said apologetically.

I nodded to her. I understood; the vampire thing was repulsive.

"I will get use to it. Just give me a second to adjust," she assured. I scooted back giving her room to breathe. My eyes soaked up the sight of her while she did something to the same effect, neither one of us had expected to see each other again. We exchanged weak smiles.

"So what now, Emm?" she asked her eyes piercing into me. I could not help but chuckle.

"Le, I have as much influence here as you do. I don't know what is going to happen to us," I admitted my eyes sinking down in guilt. Leah's eyes were fixed and shooting death glares at a looming figure behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to see that Alec and Demetri had left and the half naked Felix was monitoring our conversation.

"Carlisle knows these leeches, Emm? He will come and bail us out of this shit-hole, right?"

"Le, he has been here already, when we were in Paris. But he will come back...I think..." I said in a none too convincing voice. She looked panicked.

"What do you mean _you think_? They would not leave us here would they? They would never leave you here!" she barked back at me. They were questions that did not have answers to, questions that plagued my own mind.

"Leah, I do not know if even Carlisle can barter for me now," I countered in a whisper. I did not wish to anger her but I could not lie.

Just as Leah was about to spout off in anger the steel door screeched across the floor. What little light filtered in on our despair was blocked by the giant shadows of Demtri and Alec. Leah however was too disturbed to acknowledge their return.

"Emm, I can't stay here! I can't! I feel as though I' drowning in quicksand. The pull home is like a magnetic force suffocating me even as I stand here; I'll not be able to be away from my brothers, from my people! It will kill me!" she screamed shaking my shoulders. She then leaned forward on her palms and let her lungs heave in short breathes. Her heart beat pattered; it was a full blown panic attack. Forgoing the personal space rule, I swooped to her side messaging her fiery shoulders in my hands.

"Leah, it's ok. You're right; they'll not leave us here. Not you, not me. Carlisle will fix it and we will be home in no time," I lied. It was music to my ears, even though it was false comfort. Leah looked up with moist mahogany eyes and nodded. She gulped down this reality like an oversized pill in a dry mouth.

"Alright you two, visiting hours are over. Both of you on your feet," barked Felix a wicked grin on his face. I attempted to mask my smile. Did this idiot really think Leah would just listen to him?

"What are you smiling about? We got the fleabag her human preservation. Now let her eat." he demanded throwing a wrapped loaf of bread at her feet. A surge of new found strength allowed Leah to rise to her feet. She stalked toward Felix and his smug smile faded. Her hand was cocked back and crashing into his stone jaw, before he even had a chance to fend her off. The sound left my ears buzzing. Felix looked unmoved, a slight twist in his head was the only indicator that she had hit her mark. Leah too looked unscratched, simply shaking off her hand. I do not know if she realized it, but she looked small in comparison; Leah Clearwater looked petite next to him.

"Eat that Asshole!" she growled between clenched teeth. Felix eyes about bulged out of his head at being challenged by her. Then he laughed, which in truth relieved me. A least he did not look as if he planned to eat her.

"You look good in my shirt brown eyes!" he said licking his pale lips.

Biting my lip I watched how Leah would respond to this change in tactics. Sure she could take a blow to the ribs, but words such as those held more threats in her mind. She looked as if she was going to vomit, but instead she hurled her inhumanly perfect left hook.

This time he did not looked humored in the least. He shoved her lean body, propelling her into the corner of the stone cell as if she were weightless. I was going to run to her side to fight him off but what felt like a metal hook caught me around the waist. I glared down at his hand and fought with all my might against him, but he pulled me and all my newborn strength into the hall. I of course managed to dent the solid steel door and crack a few stone tiles.

"How dare you," I screamed. "You can't manhandle me. He pushed her; he can fight me off but no one asked you to get involved!"

Alec secured the door behind him after he followed us out. I growled and pulled free from Demetri. Alec turned around like a torpedo.

"You needed to leave anyway, deceiving her will not help. No one is coming for you, doll face!" Alec spit at me, the endearment overly condescending.

"You are a liar!" I screamed at him. It was probably the loudest I had ever yelled in my life. He however smiled wickedly.

"Let us pretend for a moment that you are right: that your family comes to save you. You are already vowed to service." He was right; it was just as I was trying to tell Leah. I would not be going home. "... Of course one could always take your place," his voice was so smooth it was offensive. Demitri eyed him sending silent messages back and forth.

"Alec this is a conversation she should have with Master Aro not with you," Demitri warned ushering me away. But Alec followed us back up the ramping hall in the dark.

"Carlisle has been harboring delinquents for decades now," he said to my back as I marched on.

Did he really think he could convince me that Nessie was some sort of criminal master mind?

"Just because Ness is different does not make her some sort of offender of the law. I don't know what Aro wants with her, but he'll not get to her through me," I hissed over my shoulder. A chuckle followed me. Demitri towed me on and Alec mocked me from behind.

"I'm not talking of the half blood. Do you really not know who I'm talking about?"

"No, I don't and frankly I do not care. Anything my family did to perturb you I'm in fervent agreement with," I retorted turning to face him. But I did not feel as confident when I saw his face. His eyes were filled with arrogance; it was as if he knew something I did not.

"They really tell you nothing, don't they? I do not really blame them. It is not something I would go around flaunting," he scoffed at me. I had to know now; I was not going to let him get away with those cryptic accusations.

"What in hells name are you talking about? All of you together, do not add up to even a fraction of what my family does. And they keep nothing from me," I defended still blind to what he was saying.

Demetri dug his heels into the ground and turned mumbling to himself.

Alec smiled an evil all knowing smile. "Are you certain of that?"

"Yes!"

"Then I suppose you know that your empath-Uncle has is responsible for siring and disposing of an army twice over-using our kind for sport. And your crazed mother made the papers with her mass killings!"

"You're lying! Carlisle would not allow it! And it is not in their nature… they would never kill humans, yet alone for sport!"

Alec smiled and shook his head, cutting in front of me he walked on as if he had the last word. I bite my lip in distain then lunged at him. I dug my fingers into his shoulder blades as if they were cat claws.

He struggled with me for several moments, attempting to free himself from me by slamming my body against the stone wall. I intern wrung my hands around his skinny neck. Demetri watched for a moment pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Enough, already! The two of you will stop," he growled pulling me off Alec's back, and throwing me to the ground.

"Sometimes I swear Alec, you're no more that a pubescent you have to go and taunt her? Could no not have kept your lips sealed for once?"

Alec scowled at the rebut and let his chest rise and fall in a mincing way before spiting a mouthful of venom at my feet and stalking off.

I looked to Demetri unsure of what to say, but he spoke before I did.

"You will have to learn not to be so impulsive. You can't be strangling every soul who offends you with their words."

"He was telling lies about my family!"

"Yes or he was telling truths! Since they are not here you cannot ask them, now can you? And if it were true, what means it to you? Would it hurt to see your family fall from that lofty pedestal you've placed them on?"

His words stung strongly of bitterness and his eyes pierced into me.

"You are nothing more than a cold-blooded beast-"

"I may be. But at least I have a grasp on reality. I'm not so naïve to believe one can exist in this life-this afterlife if you will, without accumulating some sin, without any lapses what so ever."

"What is that? A phrase that helps you cope with the blood on your hands?"

He took me by the shoulders, pressing my body against the wall. His eyes were stormy and his features intense. He brought his face close to mine as if he were about to impart a secret. But his words came out in the form of a growl.

"Emmalie Cullen you do not know of what you speak! Not all of us had the privilege of being raised by a modern day philosopher and his loyal band of followers. While you make your entrance from Sunnybrook farms-the rest of us came here from concentration camps and brothels; so do not go declaring yourself the judge of good and evil."

My mouth opened but the words did not flow forth as I would have liked. I managed to keep my cool detachment. My chin remained in that defiant tilt and my eyes narrowed, but there was no clever retort.

It was that night in my closet of a chamber that I thought on his words….their life before.

Who better than to bring into this world than those who had been slighted in life? People who had been unwanted, used and violated! Victims of Hitler's cruelty, Aro had taken it in stride. Treating the ghettos and camps as if they were some Mega- shopping center! He was a sick soul really-calculated, but sick.

Jane's twisted smile appeared in my mind and for once I caught myself feeling sad for her. What pain had she had to endure in life to come about such a talent? And Heidi, had she once been the one being preyed upon?

I knew better than to excuse acts of hatred on the behalf of one's past, but a part of me could not help it.


	22. Fifteen days and counting

Fifteen days and counting…..

I had adapted a way in which I coped with my new existence: hiding. My skills in the art of evasion were now being utilized in every way. I had complied a master list of all the places in the Volturi abode that one could slip away to and for a time be invisible: the hallway that dead-ended if you turned right from the elevator, the small second story veranda that faced an abandoned courtyard, and my favorite-the rooftop.

The rooftop was the most boldly defiant of all my hideaways, but it was also the most freeing. I was under strict orders remain within the walls of the citadel (citadel being what the Volturi called their stone prison). Since the ceilings constitute a wall, I reasoned I was still within my limits.

On the roof, I could hear the jovial music from the bistro down the street, the passing of the unknowing village people and the familiar tunes from the small ballet school two streets over. I stayed away from the roofs edge and since the height of the building was uncontested by another structure, it allowed me to remained unseen.

But under the mask of night, I could walk about the roof top. Often I would simply lay there and stargaze, pretending I was elsewhere.

It had been an entire week that I had been living amongst the guard, over two weeks if you counted the days in which I had spent unconscious. My life was rather dismal; I came when I was called for and did as I was told, all the characteristics of one who indeed had a Master. A guard member was always assigned to "watch" me and I was to follow them about and learn from them. Mostly they were to keep tabs on me; some of them did a better job than others. When I was lucky enough to lose them, I took to one of my secret places.

Twice I had been able to see Leah, who was constantly being guarded by Felix. Unfortunately, Aro used my time with Leah as a reward and in truth he was not happy with me so there was not much rewarding.

He was always eagerly waiting, ever asking about my gift or any signs of it. At least once a day, I was called for questioning, but it always ended in disappointment for them and in truth I was glad. It was something I could in fact deny them. Secretly I prayed I was powerless, that I was a dud. Utterly useless to him, perhaps I could go home.

My heart hurt for home and I needed my family so very badly.

My family to save Leah from the torture they were inflicting on her, to save me from this lifeless future. I needed them to comfort me; to tell me that they had never killed the way Alec had claimed. Most of all I needed their forgiveness.

I had drunk from my first human. It was the night after I had refused the postman-Heidi had forced me on her rounds. Numbly, I dressed in a stapless black dress provided for me and allowed Heidi to cake cheep red lipstick on my lips. My scarlet irises were covered with cheap drugstore contacts, though the red showing through the tacky brown color. I looked like a harlot; complete with leather boots and black stockings. All I was to do was to walk along side her and remain silent. She had warned me before hand about trying anything noble. If I ruined this, she would tear out Leah's hair and suck her dry. So I kept to the part of accomplice even though in my heart I knew better. As we walked I fought with my conscience, and slipped into my bad habit of babbling. Sadly, I found that I enjoyed talking to the random tourist; their familiar accents alleviated my homesick heart. Some of them were honeymooners who could hardly keep their hands off each other or recently retired couples with matching t-shirts, some were just adventurous souls traveling alone, and others were miserably accompanied by whiny children. All of them, unlike me, were so full of life. Heidi had glared at me twice, as if to remind me of what it was in fact we were doing. But I could not help it; it all made my dead stomach sick.

When we had returned Heidi explained the well tuned procedures to me, whispering in my ear as it happened. This was to be a small meal, so we had only returned with twelve. It was what Heidi had intended since they had recently fed. It surprised me how many of the Volturi guard were present as we walked past our brainless receptionist. They were lurking in corners and hanging against the walls, like the predators they were. It was one of those nightmares you have where there is no escape, no running. These people were but mice in some grand trap. When we were locked in the hall with the group, it became a sort of mad free for all. It was a horrible site and the sounds were enough to make ones skin crawl: whimpers, the snapping of necks, the flutter of heart beats, the draining and slurping of blood. It was the same collection of sounds that had once had me fleeing; now I stood motionless. At times I watched as if transfixed other times I clenched my eyes shut wishing I was elsewhere. It was all the free flowing blood that made me lose sight of my sanity for a time. My thirst overcame me.

Demtri who was knelling on the floor, hovering over a pale man, turned to me.

"You need to drink," he said sternly. "You'll go mad if you don't. Here, he's not yet dry take him," he said beckoning me. It was like a demon inside of me took the controls for in a moment's time I was on the ground beside him swallowing back venom. He carefully turned his neck for me and I brought my lips to his palpating jugular. I drank for several moments but I must have not latched properly for in a last bout of determination the man sprung to life. I stood back, even though the predator in me wanted to lurch forth. Demetri rolled his eyes to me then chased the poor soul down.

I watched and for a moment I got to see his face. He had a kind face, warm gray eyes and smile lines around his mouth. His hair was peppered and his nose was slightly crooked all signs of his life lived. Before he fell to the marble floor a second time, he looked at me as if to ask why I was not helping him. It was a face that was going to haunt me forever. When everyone was cleaning the room of the corpses I quickly fished through the man's pockets careful not to let the others see me. I pulled out his wallet and found the man's name in his check book, along with his address. I had no idea what I was going to do with it. But part of me wished to be able to write his family and give my condolences. I fought with the idea for some time before carefully tucking it back away, wiping the man's identity from my mind. It was not something I could chance.

I hid away for hours that day and still I could not come to terms with myself, with what I had done. I needed my mother and my father. I needed her to scold me than tell me it was alright; I needed for him to make light of it and tell me he loved me anyways. But instead I was here.

"Emmalie," a voice called. I looked up to see Demtri who looked overly irritated with me.

"What have I told you about slipping away?"

"Fuck off," I growled between my teeth, still staring at the night sky.

He came and loomed over where I was laying, blocking my view.

"I don't think those were my exact words. Are you still pouting about your place in the food chain? I told you it was bound to happen," he reminded astonished that I could still be troubled over such a thing.

"And I told you to fuck off," I repeated. He laughed at me than sat down beside me, as if I had invited him to do so. He sighed and looked at me again. I of course stared into space.

"I'm not really sure what you expect of yourself. You cannot change who you are and currently, I do not see you going anywhere. If you're given no choice I can't see how you can hold yourself in competent over it," he reasoned to me. I glared at him in the darkness.

"Listen, you only took a sip or two. You're not exactly tainted for life. If anyone was at fault it was me. I was certain he was out cold; I would have never offered you a live one your first time," he tried. I believed him on this; he seemed to have been genuinely surprised when the man pulled away from me. It was as if the man jolted back to life for a moment. I nodded and he turned to look at the stars.

"You can't see them as well these days," he commented. "All those chemicals the damn humans use are poisoning the sky."

I pretended as though I did not hear him.

"You used to feel as though you could pluck out any one of them with your hand; now you're lucky if you can see them through the haze."

I laughed to myself as I heard him say this.

"What?" He demanded sitting up and glaring at me.

"It is just that you're the first green vampire I've met," I laughed. He obviously did not understand the meaning of green for he jumped to his feet as if I had insulted his pride.

"I'll be in the hall; you will be there in an hour's time if you know what is good for you," he said pointing a finger in my face. "You have to get the wolf to change again; she is being stubborn."

"Her name is Leah," I called after him, but he walked on.

I fell to the ground again and continued to watch the sky. I had heard someone say once that we all shared the same nighttime sky and somehow it comforted me. The stars in Forks were the same stars in Volterra. God I missed them! If I let myself I could spend all night painting them in my head, creating some serene work of art in my mind. A mind that I was not sure was entirely sane, these days.

It was not but a minute or so before I began to hallucinate. I could hear her voice, its usual musical self calling for me. I closed my eyes and sighed. When I opened them her visage haunted me further. Her arms wrapped me in a swift hug and did not let go, as I breathed in her designer perfume. I nearly screamed in surprise as her hug registered the sensations all too real.

"Aunt Alice…what? What are you doing here?"

She squeezed me all the closer, sniffling to herself, though I knew she was not really crying. She was really and truly here.

"I had to come see for myself…we had to come. I started seeing visions of you and was convinced I was going mad," she said cupping my face in her hands, then kissing me. "Hot damn, Emm. You're even more beautiful!"

"I don't understand. Who is here with you?"

She pulled away and looked at me sadly as if knowing that she was going to disappoint me.

"Jazz," she admitted.

"But my parents-"

"Still think you're dead Emma," she admitted sadly looking at her feet, her favorite red bottom Louboutin pumps.

"What?"

"Emma, I watched you for five days. All I ever saw was a corpse on the ground. We came here while they were hiding you, God only knows where, but Carlisle forced us all to leave. Said we were going to get our entire family killed with the way we were acting."

"So Mia and Popeye?"

"I've yet to try and contact them. She was acting rash and your father was scared she was going to do something stupid, so they went somewhere in Greenland," she explained in few words. For a moment I had a picture of her in my head; distraught and careless.

"And everyone else?"

"I did not want to get the others hopes up. I've been wrong before and I did not want it to happen again. We are going to get you out of here Emma," she promised pulling away from yet another hug and putting her hands on my shoulders to give me an assuring shake.

"But it is too late."

"I know, but Jasper and I are going to fix it."

"How?"  
"He and I are going to serve in your place. It is for the best. You're young Emma and impressionable; you cannot be around these bastards. Jasper and I can manage, and we will have each other. Your parents will come home. Edward has Ness and Bella, Carlisle has Esme…and Jasper and I can …manage."

"No…no, you cannot do that Alice. Our family is weak without you-you're our eyes," I said coining the phrase my grandmother used so often to her. "The Volturi know that; and who's to say they will not use it against us. You cannot give yourself over."

Before I could even say another word, my Uncle was right next to me. One moment held just the two of us, the next he was between us.

"I thought you said you could handle this Alice," he said to his wife. "This is exactly what we were tryin to avoid."

I was about to stand up for my Aunt; he should not have scolded her for any of this, but then he turned to me.

"Emmalie Alice Marie, you will take this ticket and you will march your rear end down to the airport and you will be on the next flight out- Do you hear me?"

It was a side of Uncle I had only seen glimpses of. It was not Jasper Cullen, it was Major Whitlock and he was not to be messed with.

"I said do you hear me?"

"No Uncle Jazz, I mean I hear you, but it is not going to happen like that," I said as respectfully as I could. I could not help but smile at his accent that chose this moment to make its star appearance.

He narrowed his eyes at me and took a step closer.

"You listen and you listen good-there is no option here! You are going to do as you are told. I do not care how immortal you think you are I can still whoop your sixteen year old ass. And then you will still be getting on that plane."

"Jasper," my Aunt chided, not liking his choice of persuasion.

"Do not 'Jasper' me. We already decided we would do whatever it takes to get her out of here. Are you backing out on me? Do I need to do this alone?"

"I'm not backing out on anyone. Just tone it down. We can get her to see reason," she begged, sweetly. She reached up and lovingly tucking a curl in to place

"No one is reasoning with me -because I've made up my mind. I am going nowhere," I said firmly, looking at the two of them.

Jasper, Mr. Calm and Collected, looked as if he was going to blow and Alice looked frightened for me. But just then her face clouded over and she put her hand on Jasper's shoulder.

"She can make her own decisions Jasper. If she wants to do this, then we must let her," she murmured in a small voice.

"Alice," he fought.

"No, Jazzy it will be alright. She will come back to us in her own way," she promised looking more to me than to him. "Trust, me." Her eyes sparkled of such a promise and standing there in the moonlight I soaked up the site of my Aunt and Uncle. They were tangible proof that my life before had existed.

We both watched my Uncle waiting for his ok.

"I still think she is too young do this," he argued to her. He was not angry anymore, simply sulking.

"And I think she is too old for us to be making her decisions," Alice countered. "She is wise enough to figure this out; if we need to step in, we will be just a phone call away."

"And what will we tell the family when the find out?"

"That we did what we felt was right," she enlightened. The Major shifted from foot to foot considering the proposal.

Alice and I observed his internal battle, relieved when he released a consenting sigh. In that moment his posture changed, his eyes lost that icy glare and lips were released from the stringent frown. It was as if he was hiding behind a shell of armor, armor that was no longer needed.

"Well are you going to give your Uncle a hug?"

"I don't know; are you still planning on whooping me?" I asked with a smile.

He swiped me up into his arms and placed kisses on the top of my head repeatedly. It was the most affection I had ever received from him. In that moment I felt how distraught he must have been. It was as if he was hugging me for the whole family.

"God, Emmalie, I am so sorry we failed you. We should have done better; all of us," he said still speaking to the top of my head, which he would kiss at random pauses. Alice giggled and joined in the hug.

"Are you really alright Emma?"

"Yes I am. I'm homesick and overly unsure about so many things, but I am fine," I promised them, venom pooling in my eyes. "I just miss you guys."

Jasper and Alice nodded sympathetically before pulling me into another hug. "We miss you too, Thumbelina-more than you know. The house has been so solemn and empty since you left," Jasper shared with me still holding me in a tight hug. Alice pulled back and smiled sadly at the two of us then glanced over her shoulder. Both Jasper and I looked to her.

"We have time," she promised with a nod. "At least half an hour, before someone comes for you- maybe more."

That did not seem to me to be enough time; there was so much I needed to know. Alice seemed to understand this for she led me to the cold concrete ledge where she sat down then motioned beside her. I sat as close to her as I could, while Jasper stood just in front of us.

After a brief silence Alice held my hand in hers and went on.

"We left Forks. We're back in Alaska- we made the move after the wedding. Your Nana could not stand the house in Forks anymore, too many reminders of your absence."

"The wedding?" I asked certain not to let her skip that detail. I do not know what I expected. They thought I was dead; it was not as if they were to wait for me. Yet still I felt left out. "That happened rather fast."

Alice nodded sadly and squeezed my hand, knowing that this in some ways hurt to hear.

"Nessie wanted it at the house and at the time we were not sure when we would feel comfortable with coming back-if ever," she said in a mere whisper. I looked at her and then to my pacing Uncle- it was so very strange to hear how your own death was handled. "The wedding was really very modest and planned the last minute, but Jake felt that it was the right time. Ness had been in a dark place for a bit."

"So they are still in Forks?" I asked her.

"Yes they are staying there for now," she said sweetly.

"And my parents are still away?"

Jasper nodded.

"They left after the service and after Rose found out that we were moving to Alaska for a time. She refused to be within even a thousand miles of the Denalis."

"It is not his fault," I shared quietly, biting my lip. She looked up to her husband who turned away for a moment and paced.

"It's best not to talk of that part. Jasper gets very…uncontrollable," she whispered. At this Jasper flung around to face us.

"She has every right to speak of it Alice. It was she who was betrayed. And while it is our failure to protect her-Elezar's lapse of judgment was Emmalie's tribulation. If Emmalie wants to talk of that for the remainder of our time here then it is her right. I'm sure she has many questions and pains regarding the matter. The only thing I'll not stand for is to hear how _he_ is not at fault."

"People make mistakes uncle Jazz," I said in refute. I was not certain why I was defending him or if I truly believed in my heart of hearts that he deserved defending. My uncle's stance seemed to be rather clear, for he looked at me for a moment then shook his head.

"Mistakes yes-but this was no mistake Emm. A grown man chose to betray the trust of his most beloved friend and kidnap his grandchild for leverage. He took someone's life- and did so intentionally. I have no grace for actions like that-no tolerance for such cowardliness," he half growled to the pair of us. I took a quick step back and looked at my uncle with piercing eyes, before turning to look at the skyline.

_"…took someone's life…" _the words resonated deep within me, pulling on my heart strings. Sure my human life was no more, but I was not dead. Was I? Now the man who I had drank from and watched as Demetri killed, he was dead. And I had done nothing but help him to his grave.

"I…I took someone's life," I managed to acknowledge in little more than a whisper. "I'm the one who is a coward."

My Aunt gasped then moved to hug me. I could tell already that she did not hold me accountable.

"Oh Emmalie, I'm sorry you've had to face this on your own," she cried. "But it is going to be ok sweetheart."

"No it's not. It's not ok Aunt Alice, I'm the one who has killed; I'm the screw up," I said shrugging off her warm embrace. My Uncle was in front of me knelling and holding onto both my hands.

"Emmalie if there is one thing that I know of our family; it is that there is grace. You do not need to feel as if you're not good enough for our love. We love you for who you are, not the things you do."

"Jasper you don't know what it was like," I cried to him excusing his words.

"I promise you I do, Emmalie. Before I met Alice and your grandfather, I lived a very sad life, a life that I'm not happy to call my own. There were many lies I believed then, and I am afraid that those in whom I trusted I did so blindly. I operated in a sick and twisted reality and death did not faze me. I did more than drink of human blood…well the lives that I took, well I took them for-"

_"-for sport. A vampire army made and disposed of twice over_," I repeated almost in a trance. They were not my words, they were Alec's- the story that I was so certain was filthy lies.

I took a step back looking both to my Aunt and my Uncle.

"Someone has told you my story then?" He asked in a meek voice. He looked so small, as if he feared my rebuke-my judgment. But I was too angry to take that into consideration.

"Someone told me what I thought was lies, but I guess I was made the fool. Here in Volterra they know you better than I ever would," I bite back at him mercilessly "How could you all lie to me?"

They both stood there fixed and without a retort.

"My mother did she go on a killing spree?"

"All things considered Emmalie, it was more of a PTSD sort of thing. She has never slipped like that again," Alice explained in a small voice, a voice that pleaded with me to understand. Jasper nodded in agreement, his eyes told of the absolute support he had for my mother.

"My father? Uncle Edward?"

Alice nodded then whispered. "They had both strayed for a time," she whispered as if it was her crime to be ashamed of. Jasper look as though he was going to explain, but was still searching for words.

"And so you were not going to tell me?"

"Emmalie, we wanted you to feel safe amongst us. It is not an easy subject to broach with a young girl," Jasper explained patiently.

"You wanted me to be safe, so you all lied?" I said crouching down and holding my head in my hands. It did not ache, but I wished it did. I wished something could hurt more than my wounded. I was naïve and without a clue-Alec was right to laugh at me.

"Emmalie you must understand-

"No Alice, you do not get it-do you? I spent my life thinking you all were perfect while I was the one with all the faults," I said looking to her and my Uncle. "I love you both with all my heart, truly I do. And I want you to know that I will be waiting for the day when I can come home. But right now I think you both should leave."

They both stood there frozen in one place as if my words had shot through them like a round from an AK47. Part of me hated myself for being this way; I should have been basking in their company. But I could not help but let my anger boil. They had lied to me. All of them.

"Emmalie, I understand why you may be disappointed in me. Your disappointment was the very reason that I never wanted to tell you. This will be the last I say of it then I will go, I promise," my uncle claimed. "When you were young, after you forgave me for trying to manipulate you into sleeping at bedtimes, you used to look at me as if I was some hero. It was as if you thought, I could actually read that stupid Thumblina book better than anyone else in the world. It is selfish, I know it is- but I never wanted that to change. We all didn't." He paused. "You have to remember, a person is not good by refusing to acknowledge there is evil in this world; a person is good when they can see bits of evil in themselves and then fight it with all of their being. "

I chocked back a small sob and hugged him.

"I love ya, darlin- we all do. And nothing you do here could ever change that," he promised with a kiss to my porcelain cheek. "I'll wait for you in the cab Alice."

Alice smiled at me, her eyes glassy as if she wanted to cry.

"Emma, be safe. And call me. Carlisle changed our numbers as he always does when we move, but I kept my line activated. You can call me any time Emma," she said tenderly to me.

"I will," I promised, I knew her number by heart. "Alice do you know how long I will be here? Will it be 50 years?"

Alice scoffed and looked at me.

"I do not have to be able to read the future to be able to tell you that. There is no way in hell this is going on for 50 years. Right now I am simply letting you call the shots. There is more way than one for you to leave and you will come to see that. But I will not keep it from the rest of the family forever. We will fight for you if we have to."

I looked at her and tried to hide my fear. I could not bear to see my family fighting for me.

Alice turned and looked to the alley below where I could hear an engine idling.

"One more thing, something that will help you-something that you already know, but it will help both you and Leah." She got closer as if her whisper could be carried upon the wind.

"It is not just my premonitions that Leah can wolf-up," she whispered," that girl is gonna make a lot of trouble for these bastards, and they deserve every bit of it."


End file.
